My hair, and especially my beard, was becoming a scruffy mess. In the past, my father, my sister, or significant others have cut my hair, but not Carol. So I have to find time to squeeze in a visit to the barber shop between all the busyness.
On Monday past, I had to go to the eye doctor – boy, I’m looking forward to new glasses, since my most recent pair broke in July, and I’ve been using a pair I got in 1999. And I had a Friends of the Library meeting at the end of the day. In between, I got a haircut, and not just a trim, but a shave-it-all-off thing. It wasn’t in solidarity with National Breast Cancer Month or anything; it was just a whim when the barber asked what I wanted.
First thing I noticed: it’s cold out. Even the minimal covering of my receding hairline was providing some warmth, so the hat’s the thing. Second, most people claim to like it; wonder how it’ll look with the new specs.
Anyway, I’m a little under the weather (I was home sick on Friday). I can’t blame it on the short cut, though, because my daughter was ALSO home sick on Friday and my wife came home early, not feeling particularly well.
So, we’re gonna stop here and save our energy.