That's it. It's getting cut down, today. I'm getting sheared. Fleeced. Defoliated. (To the lowest level on the razor -- still a beard, but not a BEARD.)
Honestly, it tickled at night. It was too hot for the weather. And I think it stood out a little too much. Unlike my young customers, I really don't much like standing out in a crowd. I felt that people would walk in the door and hesitate for a second when they saw me.
Linda thinks it's all in my head. I finally said, "So? Which comes first, the chicken or the egg?"
If I'm self-conscious because people are looking at me, or people are looking at me because I'm self-conscious, same diff.
The biggest reason?
I will have the exact same looking beard when I'm 75 years old. Seriously.
I'm not 75 years old yet. Why look like I am?
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