It’s another do-nothing day where the most exciting thing I could muster was a decision about whether or not to shave.
Truth be told, I really hate shaving.
Most men feel the same.
Ask a bloke about his dream weekend and he’s likely to say, “not shaving, and not wearing underwear”.
I won’t deal with the latter in this particular post, rather the former.
It was only about 2 or 3 years ago that I actually needed to shave daily.
Until the I could get away with shaving ever other day, as I have fine and fairly blonde body and facial hair.
But obviously my male menopause hormones have kicked in, and now I need to shave daily.
At first it was a pain in the bum. All of those blades. All of that cream. And carefully making sure I didn’t carve half my face off in the process.
But I’ve learned how to speed up the process, and to do it properly, and have become such an expert that I can mostly shave in the shower now without a mirror.
Okay, I end up with the occasional bit of shaving cream stuck to the inside of my ear when I get to work. But it could be worse: one of my colleagues had toothpaste on the top of his ear a few months back.
Mostly though, I’ve streamlined the process, and so don’t find it anywear near as much of an imposition as it was when this whole, terrible, painful process began.