Blood in the Shampoo

I shaved my head yesterday morning. I was completely sober. Keeping true to form, I also ensured that I cut myself in no fewer than three places doing so. I've been contemplating this since I moved to a sunnier climate, long before the wedding two weeks ago. At that time, I concluded that I'd return to my favorite barbershop for one last buzzcut and straight razor neck shave, and then start shaving my head rather than suffer through the agony of trying to find a good place nearby to approximate the same damned thing. It was more difficult than I was hoping, but pretty easy to do once I'd figured out that bouncing razor blades off of my skull was probably not the best approach. I may need to invest in some talc and a powder puff in order to control glare, but overall the input has been positive. Combined with the beard, I look less like a chemo patient and more like Edward Norton if Edward Norton's mom kept mailing him chocolate chip cookies.