The Hair Conundrum
I'm having a huge internal debate. Usually when it's time to shave my head, I shave it. No questions asked. Either the mood strikes or I just can't take it anymore, but the result is that same. I get out the clippers and go for it. Right now, the mood is striking and my hair has been totally out of control for days, maybe even weeks. I can't take it. It's got to go. Except... I may want to keep it. And I'll tell you why.
People keep telling me to. Yes, I know. I seldom do anything anyone tells me to do. However, in this case they are kind of right. My hair does look cute a little longer. When I shave the sides and let the top grow, I get a lot of compliments. Whether it's faux hawked, spiky, or laying flat, people seem to like it. And I like. Of course, it's a helluva lot easy not having any hair. No thought. No bed head. No worries.
I also had an experience this past week that really made me enjoy having hair. Keep in mind that my hair hasn't been this long in ages. It's not long, but apparently it's long enough. I hate to admit this in an open and very public forum (especially in front of my mother), but I had my hair pulled for the first time the other day. And I liked it. A lot. If I shave it all off, I won't have any hair to pull. And I liked it. A lot. See my conundrum? No hair equals no pulling. And I liked it. A lot.
So, right now I'm making dinner and trying to decide. I hate my hair. Hate it. It drives me batty. I wore a hat to work this morning because I didn't have the energy to deal with the bed-head. In my opinion, it never looks good. What I really need is a haircut. In the old days, I shaved the sides and left the top longer. If only I had the money. Maybe next pay period, I'll have enough left over to afford one. Of course by then I'll probably be going bonkers because my hair will be two weeks longer. Ugh. What to do?
It's taking everything in me not to go up to the bathroom, strip off all my clothes, and shave off all this hair. I can't take it. I'm trying not to think about the fun little memory from the other day. It totally took me by surprise. I never understood the whole hair-pulling thing. I do now. And because of that I hate my hair and I love my hair. I really thought writing about it would help me decide what to do. The Words lead me in one direction or the other. Sadly, I'm more confused now than I was when I sat down to write. Dammit.
People keep telling me to. Yes, I know. I seldom do anything anyone tells me to do. However, in this case they are kind of right. My hair does look cute a little longer. When I shave the sides and let the top grow, I get a lot of compliments. Whether it's faux hawked, spiky, or laying flat, people seem to like it. And I like. Of course, it's a helluva lot easy not having any hair. No thought. No bed head. No worries.
I also had an experience this past week that really made me enjoy having hair. Keep in mind that my hair hasn't been this long in ages. It's not long, but apparently it's long enough. I hate to admit this in an open and very public forum (especially in front of my mother), but I had my hair pulled for the first time the other day. And I liked it. A lot. If I shave it all off, I won't have any hair to pull. And I liked it. A lot. See my conundrum? No hair equals no pulling. And I liked it. A lot.
So, right now I'm making dinner and trying to decide. I hate my hair. Hate it. It drives me batty. I wore a hat to work this morning because I didn't have the energy to deal with the bed-head. In my opinion, it never looks good. What I really need is a haircut. In the old days, I shaved the sides and left the top longer. If only I had the money. Maybe next pay period, I'll have enough left over to afford one. Of course by then I'll probably be going bonkers because my hair will be two weeks longer. Ugh. What to do?
It's taking everything in me not to go up to the bathroom, strip off all my clothes, and shave off all this hair. I can't take it. I'm trying not to think about the fun little memory from the other day. It totally took me by surprise. I never understood the whole hair-pulling thing. I do now. And because of that I hate my hair and I love my hair. I really thought writing about it would help me decide what to do. The Words lead me in one direction or the other. Sadly, I'm more confused now than I was when I sat down to write. Dammit.
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