Day ? of self isolation

It had to happen, something needed to be done – I’d been isolated for so long my hair had reached a point of unruly that all the goop in the world couldn’t plaster it into something presentable. When they dialed the world back to essential services only hair cutting didn’t make the cut – apparently if I needed a haircut I was on my own. 

I’ve been watching my hair get cut for more years than I’d care to mention. Seated in a stylist’s chair, draped in a black cape I’ve avoided staring at my face in the mirror  by concentrating on the stylist.  They’ve always made hair cutting look simple; a snip here, a clip there and voila!  I figured I had enough experience, in a spectator sort of way, to tackle the chore myself – how hard could it be?  

I gathered my implements; the kitchen scissors, the nail scissors, a comb I found in the bottom of a purse; and lined them up on the bathroom counter like surgical instruments. I draped a towel over my shoulders and dampened my hair.  Easy peasy  – for about three and a half seconds.  I chose the area for the first cut, lifted a clump of hair with the comb and tried to hold it steady while I fought with the scissors and their reflection in the mirror. 

I should point out that I am directionally challenged on a good day – backing up a car has never been my forte, add a trailer to the back of the car and I’m hopeless. Trying to maneuver scissors while looking in a mirror is a remarkably similar experience – frustratingly impossible.

I made the first cut and my fate was sealed – I was committed to finishing a job I never should have started.

Being right handed the right side of my head was decidedly easier to tackle than the left but neither was a piece of cake.  I didn’t even entertain the thought of trimming the back – I could be in serious mullet territory by the time we come out of isolation but them’s the breaks. 

It took quite a while to complete the task.  I grew more tentative with each cut, my confidence evaporating with the wisps of white hair floating toward the counter. Slowly, tediously, I straightened the first cut, then the second and then…  a person could potentially try to even out a bad haircut all day long.  There came a point during the snipping and clipping where I had to call it quits.  

Social distancing is a blessing in disguise for the first time during this pandemic. My new do doesn’t look too bad if you don’t look too close.  I’ve taken my asymmetrical style to a whole new level – I’m at least as funky as the guy featured on the news the other night who clear cut the back of his head with dog clippers.  

It becomes more evident every day that we are all in this together.