About twice a year, I put myself into some unnecessarily stressful situation. It is something that could be remedied fairly quickly, but I seem to much rather hem and haw over the logistics. And not just for one day, when the time comes I will do this for weeks on end, very much annoying those around me in the process. I'm not sure why I go about it this way, but I do. I don't have to, you see. A sensible solution to something that isn't even a real problem could be made within minutes, and without needing an appointment, probably completed within the hour. Then I would come back to my little abode, stop with the indecisiveness, and get on with my life. Obviously, what I am talking about is getting a haircut. There's a couple of reasons why I put myself through such a useless self-imposed torture chamber. The first excuse is that I never know how to clearly state just what I want done to my hair. Growing up I would always just tell them to shave th...