I mean, it has been almost 3 months now. I’m supposed to have passed the “I should cut my hair” phase a long time ago, but I’m only getting the notion now. But I don’t look like a hobo yet, so it’s nothing too urgent, I guess.
And I wonder why I keep missing deadlines.
If I had it my way, I’ll never have to cut my hair. It’s one of those things I do because it’s socially unacceptable not to do. You know, like going out without underpants. Or attending church in shorts. Or having to reply to people when they talk to me.
(the church bit is really more survival skill than behaving in a socially acceptable manner. If I go to church with anything less than a shirt, long pants, socks, shoes, and a jacket, I might require resuscitation via thawing by the time the service is over)
That, and also because it gets really uncomfortable after a while. Those of you who have lived with short hair will understand – you can actually feel the weight of your hair when it grows long. And it’s not just the weight of something on your scalp – your head actually feels heavier. For added cumbersomeness, long hair takes a longer time to dry out AND takes more shampoo to clean.
Apparently, if you want to go hassle-free, the only solution is to go bald. And have a collection of wigs handy.
(what annoys me the most about long hair is that it only appears to have dried out. When you rest your head to sleep and wake up the next day, however, the remaining water that hadn’t dried up the night before will have reshaped your hair to resemble the Leaning Tower of Pisa)
The longest I’ve went without hair, as far as I can remember, is sometime in the year 2010. (Or maybe it was 2011. Memories have a tendency of blurring into one another past a certain threshold.) In that time, I cut my hair towards the early part of the fall semester, which begins at the end of August, and I didn’t bother with my hair again until mid-December or so.
People told me that with my hair, I’d fit right into the 70s. Unfortunately, I arrived 40 years too late. I couldn’t care less what people thought of the dead cat on my head. It only began to dawn upon me that I should cut my hair when I laid down to sleep, and my hair was uncomfortably bunched up against my head, making it difficult to sleep.
I think a few well-meaning friends tried to drop hints that I should go and get a haircut. When hints didn’t work, some of them flat out came up to me and told me that my hair was hideous. I still didn’t care though – until I found difficulty sleeping. That’s when it got personal.
So there you have it: the only reasons I cut my hair. To maintain a socially acceptable appearance, and to sleep well. I think it reflects upon my convictions and values.
Actually, going bald and keeping a collection of wigs doesn’t sound too bad. I might check that out.