On whining about minor problems

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Pictured: not my head.

So sometimes when you shave your head a couple times a week, you cut your scalp. It happens; it’s basically unavoidable. It bleeds a little bit and then it stops, and sometimes you have to go out in public with a Band-Aid on your scalp like a dummy and for the most part people are decent enough to not mention it (assuming they’re tall enough to see it in the first place) and everything’s fine.  Eventually they heal and they weren’t a big deal anyway.

Sometimes, though?  Sometimes, if you’re the kind of guy who rubs his head in a couple of specific spots when you’re thinking or under stress (and those spots, you’ve noticed, are significantly balder than the rest of your head) you get cuts on those spots, and you fuck with those little scabs forever and they never heal and eventually make you crazy enough that you do things like clip your nails just so that there’s no chance you can accidentally break a scab.  You also resolve to go a bit longer than usual in between head-shaves because you know you’re gonna screw them up again the next time you do it and are hoping to give them a bit longer to maybe actually possibly heal.  Because you never know, maybe it’s possible.

Then you blog about it, because it’s not like anything interesting happened today, and typing keeps your fingers off your goddamn stupid head.

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