Quarantine Hair

I haven’t gotten a haircut in eight or nine months. I know haircuts have been allowed since the summer, but it strikes me as a high risk/low reward activity. I have to say, I’m loving it. It doesn’t look good. I’m well aware of that. Aside from being too old for long hair, I’ve been follicly challenged for more than a decade now. But, I’m loving it anyway. It feels great.

I had long hair as a college student, like past my shoulders long hair. Through the first half of my twenties, I had what I would call shaggy hair. There was no consistency to my haircuts. I got one when I noticed I needed one. Often that was weeks after I actually needed one. But in the past twenty years, I’ve gotten a haircut every six weeks, whether I needed it or not.

This is the one good thing about the COVID era. Letting my hair grow while being in a social environment where it’s acceptable has been liberating. When I say it feels great, I mean it. It’s insanely comfortable having a mane. Twirling it in my fingers is soothing. I just love it.

That’s all I’ve got to say. I know it’s not exciting, but it’s a small positive in an otherwise bad year. I’ll just add that I almost took my first selfie to accompany this post, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I hate getting my picture taken that much. You’ll just have to trust me that it doesn’t look good.

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