I was shorn this way

Went to the lovely barber shop at which I’ve become enough of a regular customer that they know my name and remember the goings on in my life that I’ve shared when I visit.  It’s a few (I think three of them were there today) dudes and one woman.  They’re incredibly polite and inviting and just make me feel good to be there, which I guess is how customer service should go, right?

I get what amounts to the service on their “menu” called “The Presidential,” which is a full shave and haircut complete with all of the treatments (they shampoo my bald head after they shave it, my goodness there are few things that feel as good-weird as nice hot water being showered over your shiney-and-very-topographically-wonky cranium).  I even get two hot towel “sessions,” one on my head after they shave my skull and one on my face after they shave my face.  It’s all so very relaxing and luscious.

After that we hit up Costco in hopes that they’d have those awesomely vegan-friendly dried Montmorrency cherries that taste like cherry pie cherries and they did!  So I got a few bags of those ’cause NOM-NOM-NOM.

Whenever I get “The Presidential” and come home and see myself in the bathroom mirror the plethora of scars that mark my head up like the Apollo landing sites sort of make me shudder because only when I can see them that clearly do I sort of remember how it felt when I had just endured getting them.  And fahgetaboutit if I get a view of the way back where the latest one(s) went down ’cause those are *shudder*-worthy.  They make the X-ray I saw that they took after one of my last MRI’s make sense because my head is basically being held together by titanium, hopes, and dreams.  I made the observation out loud (to my mother) that it feels like my brain sort of floats above the rest of my body most of the time, like it’s also being held onto the rest of my body with hopes and dreams rather than the biological tissues upon which it should be relying.

I’m such a weirdo.

But I’m alive to know that, so all is well.

I did not walk on my treadmill today, and that’s a bit silly, but it just didn’t hitch a ride on my train of thought.  Oh well, no harm in missing one day.

Tomorrow I get to go with my mom while she gets her hair dealt with, which is awesome ’cause those people are lovely, too.

My life really is mostly a cakewalk if you take out the needing to compensate for my brain damage part.

Hopes-and-dreams-head, out!