My Beard

It was a terrible mistake. Shaving off my beard in a spur of the moment thing that wasn’t thought through.

I should have known. In the past I’ve had beards, thought ‘why not shave it off?’ only to be horrendously disappointed when I took that first look in the mirror. This time was no different. Looking back at me with pink skin was a man who looked like he was made of plasticine – and in a rush too. Lumps everywhere.

So now all concentration is directed towards re-growing the thing. For one my face is cold. For two, I want my old face back. I’ve learned my lesson. People at work keep saying I look younger. Screw that. I’m 30 next month. I’ve accepted I’m getting older; I can at least look the part.

So yes. The stubble has already started. They’ll be more tomorrow. I’ll feel better then and be able to show my face without shame. Well, with the usual shame.