People who know me would probably know how the very prospect of getting a haircut fills my mouth with burning vitriol.
The reaction is almost incomparable, with the possibility of having to clean my room being a major, albeit rare, exception.
Nonetheless, as one grows older, one comes to realise that maintaining these long, glossy, bouncy, wavy hair, which have now come to be a significant part of your identity, is growing more and more untenable every passing day.
“Time erodes us all.”
― Meg Rosoff
With a heavy heart, I decided to pay a visit to the barbers’, and shear off my lustrous mane, lest I ruin whatever still remained of it.
However, as it would turn out, my wallet was completely empty, and a visit was all I could afford to pay.
And, as the gods above would have it, my mane survives another day.