It's all about the hair. You have to cherish it as if it were your child. I'd say I spend about two hours a day on mine, and that's excluding the many times during the day that I fix it. Appearance is very important, and you are judged by your hair. My job, it's not a pretty one, but I look pretty, because I have pretty hair. Today I cleaned some trash cans and mopped the floor and pretended not to speak English when people tried to talk to me. The hair can't be distracted during work, it might collapse on one side. When that happens, the whole day is shot. I also washed my shirt today. Sometimes it gets spots on it. My name is on my shirt. It says "Carlos." I like my shirt. It has a pocket in the front for my comb. I got the comb for free from the nice lady at the drug store. She said I come in there so much that she just give me free comb. That makes me happy. A few weeks ago someone threw up in front of the drug store. I cleaned that up, but I went really slow, and often looked around as if I didn't know what was going on. It is funny when I put a soda in my supply bucket and people walk by and think about taking it. I can see them look for a minute, and then get scared and walk away. That is funny. That makes me laugh. Then I checked my hair. It must be exactly 2.3 inches off my head and perfectly still. It was looking good. Then I emptied some more trash in front of some people who were eating. I looked around confused while I did this also. Later on I went home, washed my hair, and slept.
