I mentioned a while back that I had the urge to shave my head. I'm still not really sure what brought on the urge, but today I caved in. I should probably clarify that I didn't actually shave my head. There's a noticeable amount of hair remaining on my scalp, but it's by far the shortest I've had it since I was in middle school 15 years ago. I decided that I was going to go for it today while driving back to the house from chauffeuring K, her mother, and grandmother on a shopping trip. After dropping them off, I ran out to Target and bought a set of clippers and let them charge while we ate dinner. Afterward, just before it was time to put E to bed, I sneaked upstairs and started shearing off my locks in long clumps. Of course E had to follow me up the stairs, so K came in behind the demanding toddler after I got in a few passes and finished the job for me.
I have to say that I'm a little shocked at how far my hair has actually receded. With the shag I've kept at various lengths for the past eleven years, I could notice it was thinner up top, but the true extent of the damage was camouflaged by the sheer volume of hair. Now it's quite obvious how much I've lost and I can't pretend that it's just the high forehead I've always had.
On a positive note, my ears aren't the Dumbo-esque monstrosities that I remember from my childhood. I may be able to pull off the short hair going-bald-gracefully look after all.
As for the reason for this sudden change, I'm not entirely sure as I mentioned earlier. I do think it's perhaps partly due to the frustration with my life getting into a rut lately. It was time to move to somewhere new over a year ago and here I still am in a place I'm not entirely happy. Maybe shaving my head was supposed to be some cathartic act of symbolism, or perhaps it was because I was just tired of my long hair looking like crap because it was so thick in the back and so wimpy up front.