While thinking about what to write this morning, I found myself in my bathroom staring at this long hair growing out of the left side of my neck, just under my ear. I looked a little closer into the mirror and grabbed a hold of it, wrapped it around my finger a couple of times and found it to be like 2 inches long. How can one hair grow that long on the side of my neck without anyone noticing, commenting or getting it caught in the car window?
Not really thinking too much about it, I reached into my drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. Then, backwards, upside down and in reverse, I quickly bent my elbow in some double inverted, high degree of difficulty, dyslexic lunge, to snip the flaccid follicle. And just as quickly, I found my self with a chunk of my neck pinching fast in the jaws of those two razor sharp blades. Fortunately the message of pain got to my brain quick enough for me to stop squeezing the scissors, that also apparently had my juggler between it’s lacerating legs as well.
I narrowly survived the ordeal with a fairly noticeable cut on my neck, though my pride was a little more raw. “Did I almost just kill myself?” I thought? And all in pursuit of a barely visible piece of fur?
In my mind, I pictured myself on the floor of my bathroom, with with blood spurting out of my neck in rhythm with each final heart pump. I heard people talk about me after I died, “yep, he killed himself trying to cut some huge hair sticking out of his neck…”
That reminds me… I gotta get one of those AAA batteries for my vibrating 5 blade razor with the flashing lights and the lubricating strip.