I’m going to share with you one of my many little quirks.
For nearly 10 years I cut my hair myself. The practice started when I won a pair of clippers from a sales contest at RadioShack as an associate. This was in a period where I was sort of meandering through life. (Reflecting back, I wish I had dreamt bigger in my meandering. RadioShack sales associate? Come on. I could have walked the earth freely at that point in time.)
Anyway, if you saw me today you could probably tell I cut my hair. Never stylish. Hair thin(ning). Few options.
Every once in a while I will pay an actual barber for a trim. I usually do this when I’m dealing with stress or change. A hair cut just feels good. It is ritualistic. Barber cuts are hopeful and tidy.
I am going for one this evening.
Post barber-cuts are inevitably followed by this 1994 Pavement song, so I thought I would go ahead and share that too: