I'm tired of the whole process of it – the getting all wet, the washing, the drying off, the endless polishing and primping; the hunt for something to wear; the drying of the hair; the plucking of the hair in places where it shouldn't be; the shaving; the moisturizing. . .
I've been doing it every day for 45 1/2 years and I've grown wearisome of the whole affair.
It's a crisis because I thought about giving up the routine and just stinking. I thought about letting my leg hair grow until it acts as insulation. I thought about choosing my clothes by blindly pointing into the closet and wearing whatever falls out. I thought about letting my hair go until it grows into dreadlocks and requires no further care. I actually thought about growing a beard and getting it over with.
And then I realized the crisis was bigger than just my personal grooming habits. I'm tired of a whole bunch of things. At 45 1/2 it feels like there is nothing new left in this world. Just a bunch of routines that get repeated ad nauseum: what's for dinner? should we mow the lawn? who's turn is it to let the dog out? why do we have to make the bed? if we didn't change our clothes we wouldn't have to do laundry. . .blah, blah, blah. . .
And then I realized it's gotten even bigger than that. Suddenly I'm back in the same job, sitting in the SAME CHAIR that I sat in twelve years ago. How. Did. This. Happen??
And then, as I am wont to do, I began to question everything. . .Why bother writing a blog? Who cares about my ridiculous life and thoughts anyway? Which, in turn, led to even more navel-gazing, excessive introspection, self-absorption and concentration on a single issue – whether or not to actually go take a shower. . .
Do me a favor, will you? Schedule an intervention if I start to stink.