i decided over the weekend that i needed a haircut. but, not having the time or the cash, i decided to try and impose on myself a 5-day haircut waiting period in attempt to curb haircut-related deaths through legislative action. the vote passed by a 56-43 margin with one abstention and enforcement was a resounding success. however, now that the appointed waiting period has passed, i don't know that i want a haircut anymore. i don't want to get my hair cut today, i wanted to get it cut on monday.

by now, my hair has grown to the point where i find myself making concessions to it, like "it's ok that my sideburns stick out farther horizontally from my head than they stretch down my face. i'll get a haircut next week." after this i find an old timey plane to step out of and then i wave a little piece of paper in the air and yell "haircuts in our time!" but it may already be too late for that. on Tuesday, the hair on the sides of my head had already annexed the tops of my ears into a sort of latter-day Manchukuo. but still i said, "just wait until tomorrow". on Wednesday, the hair on my brow was poised, ready and waiting to storm over the Maginot line of my eyebrows and into my very eyes and still i delayed. and yesterday, my sideburns started a blitzkrieg-style pincer move down the sides of my face toward my chin. it's the race to Berlin all over again, with Lefty playing the part of the Russians and Righty playing the part of the Americans & other assorted allies. yet still i put off a haircut. "tomorrow," i said, "tomorrow." all of this would be trouble enough without having to worry about the potential 5th column of my incipient mustache/goatee, which may have to be put into an internment camp for the duration of the hostilities.

i guess i need a haircut. maybe i'll get one tomorrow.