I need a haircut. My neck and ear area itches. However, getting a haircut involves taking a shower, driving somewhere, enduring twenty minutes of forced conversation with someone I don't know and then coming home. It's like...almost an hour, that it takes. The whole process. AN HOUR. Too much time. So I put it off until I almost can't bear the itching, then I go. But I can't go on Saturday or Sunday, because there's too great a chance I'll have to wait. Except, Saturday and/or Sunday is the one day of the week I take off from writing, so, technically it's the one day I SHOULD go to get a haircut.
The whole things makes me want to shave my head. I could do it in a bathtub once a month and be done with it. I wouldn't look very good but I don't look that good anyway. And it'd be over.
Huge parts of my life are spent avoiding things that seem to me to be hassles, things that I know seem like hassles to no other person on earth. My wife, for example, is constantly shocked by the lengths I will go to avoid doing certain things, especially things that force me to leave the house, especially things that force me to leave the house on a weekday. If somewhere in my study for example, was a large toxic spore that, once per day released fumes into the air that caused me to pass out for a few minutes, I would absolutely let the spore alone if the only way to get rid of it was to go drive somewhere. Think about it. If you only pass out for a few minutes, you're saving time staying in the house. (Well, I guess at some point those minutes would accumulate, and it would be more efficient to leave the house and hire the guy to come destroy the spore. So say the spore has only a fifty percent chance of releasing its fumes.)
This is one reason why it's good to have other people in your life--they clue you in on things about you that are slightly insane.
Wait--is that good?
I don't know. But I'm not getting a fricking haircut today, I can tell you that.
3 comments:
Get a haircut you damn hippie.
"they clue you in on things about you that are slightly insane."
I think given what's come before it in the post to that point, the word "slightly" is misused here.
I love getting my hair cut. It's a two-block walk from my house. A fairly attractive, very kind-seeming young woman washes my hair. Then an old, slim Italian man cuts it, never expecting much in the way of conversation, occasionally humming along with whatever is playing on the radio. It's something I would do more often if I were rich or fanatical about keeping my hair very short.
1. I also hate getting haircuts. In fact, due to truly phenomenal levels of stress pertaining to my work and changes in my/our life/lives, I decided maybe I should actually buck up and get a massage. I went. Turns out I also hate getting massages.
Strangers. They are to be avoided. And not encouraged to touch you.
2. I basically got married so that I would never have to use the telephone ever again.
So - for what it's worth, you're not alone.
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