Friday, May 18, 2007

Hair du temps


Must stop pulling out my hair.

You'd think the last thing someone who's losing their hair would do is pull it out but there is something slightly obsessive about it. It falls out easily when I run my hands through it, in fact, more and more of it falls out every time I run my hands through it.

And it's so tempting to sit there and repeatedly run my hands through it, building up a big pile of hair that looks like the floor of a hairdresser's after you've had a quick trim. I sweep it up with my hands and bundle it into a little ball. Then I throw it in the bin.

It's only the longer hair on the top and sides that seems to be falling out. Occasionally I get a shorter hair or two from the back but that's rare. The short stuff seems to be hanging on for dear life.

But the long hairs fall on my desk, my keyboard, my plate when I'm eating, the table in a meeting, the kitchen work-surface when I'm making a cup of tea, the sink when I'm brushing my teeth, and strangely, when I get up from the loo, turn around and press the flush, I see strands of hair on the seat and in the bowl.

So, it's sort of easier to encourage it a bit and help it along. There is something about wanting to get on with the process. Having a full head of hair is ok. Thinking about having no hair feels like it's going to be ok. It's just the inbetween bit that's less than bearable.

But, by starting with the benefits of a full head of hair, if you didn't know, and you passed me in the street, you wouldn't notice. But I am starting to see the loss. The naked bit of skin that lies in between my parting is significantly wider than it should be. The sides are looking thin.

It's passable for the wedding sans chapeau tomorrow but at this rate, I think I only have a few days before it gets too mangy looking.

And then, it's time for the biggest shave of my life.

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