I won’t placate you with clichés about how thankful I am this Thanksgiving Day. Truth be told, I spent the weekend feeling ugly, eating too much and mourning the loss of my hair.
Who knew that hair could hurt. Well, let me tell you, it really, really can. It started on Thursday. I was in the back seat of an uber and the guy had the windows all the way down and I was sure my hair was going to literally blow off my head. Not everyone experiences the hair pain, but for those who do, it is a sign that hair loss is nigh. By Friday, all I had to do was run my fingers through my hair and a bunch would come out. They say you know when it is time to shave it off, and they were right. I knew. I had mine shaved on Saturday at 2.30. Fortunately my skull is perfectly fine and I am not a cone head as I feared.
I also bought a wig. It cost nearly as much as my rent. Movo put it somewhere so Quincy wouldn’t eat it and now we can’t find it.