the annual itch to cut off my hair has returned. some years i scratch it and other years i use the metaphorical equivalent of gold bond� medicated powder. [i've already carried this too far. in two sentences.. push through it.]

the only thing keeping me from doing it, at the moment, is that when i have previously done it [and i swear i've said this all, even semi-recently, but i cannot find it so i will pretend this is brand new information], every female person i even remotely know has come out of the woodwork to tell me how bad i am at making decisions or to show last night's dinner to my shoes, and maybe my pants. so i'll admit that is a pretty bad reason to not do something, but the numbers are landslidingly against.

i am not deluded into thinking i look amazing with negligible hair on my head, i'm just fed up. i think that i think it is a kind of release. a release from what? i don't know, it's just a guess. (jeez, mr. italics..)

so the plan is to go to sleep quasi-normally tonight to avoid the hours that lend themselves to auto-barbering. also, i'm assuming this is exactly how crack addicts feel.



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number 9.. .   .? andy andy andy, get your adverbs here

is it me or is it me