This is going to sound more dramatic than it really is. In actuality, it’s pretty matter-of-fact. Surprisingly so.
For the past 30+ years, I’ve pretty much had the same haircut: a number-zero on the clippers. I’ve sported my share of fades and crew-cuts over the years, but every haircut I’ve had since I was a little kid has been a variation on the same theme.
Three months ago, I decided to grow my hair out. I wanted something different, and it’s a move a lot of people have suggested I make over the years. I’ve gotten two professional haircuts over this period, and both were just to trim the back and sides. The rest of it continued to grow.
A lot has changed in my life over the past month. I set up almost the entire infrastructure of my life for the month of August expecting a certain event to happen. Things are very new right now. Different than they were a month ago. I am full of surprises. My life is full of surprises, mostly good ones. One of those surprises was going to be, for people who haven’t seen me in a while, the length of my hair.
And so meanwhile – and if you’ve read the first posts of my little blog comeback here – life was kicking my ass a little bit for a while. Still was, but then it kind of went like this (it won’t let me link to or embed the exact time, so start this around 3:38 and stop it at exactly 4:32, and do me the courtesy of trying to time this right so I can give you the proper effect):
LINK TO VIDEO THAT EXPLAINS HOW I FEEL.
That’s pretty much how it is. Which is good. I’m not getting killed anymore.
And I shaved my fucking head today. And that’s the end of the fucking story.