Hair wash time.

I feel it's only right to keep banging on about my hair. In case you were wondering.

Over the last few days a lot of the dried blood has come off the scar and my hair has been growing at an alarming rate. Actually, some of my hair has been growing at an alarming rate, the rest of it is just growing quite slowly. One side of my head has entered that tricky stage - it looks like a fluffy chick, Olly says. The other side hasn't quite got there yet. I'm not sure what's worse - looking like a fluffy chicken all over, or having uneven hair.

Having not washed my hair for two and a half weeks, it was getting a bit manky (erm, understatement of the century). When the stitches came out the nurse sprayed silicon spray all over to get the massive plaster off, so that didn't help. But I have been seriously looking forward to washing my head, although slightly nervous of how much it would hurt the scar.

Last night I leant over the bath while mum finally washed it. She had bought some stuff to use that is gentler than normal shampoo (although doesn't feel or smell like shampoo - in fact it isn't shampoo but it is antibacterial, which is the main thing) and she could see the scar and where to go carefully. Everything seemed fine, so today I'm going to wash it myself - in the shower! A proper shower!

I realise that I'm writing this after 3pm and have just admitted that I still haven't had a shower, but I had a very busy morning, snoozing.

Crap, it's after 3pm and I haven't gone to get my passport photos done yet. Maybe newly washed hair will make the photos better. Rocking the half chicken look.