During the pandemic, I learned I will never look good in an apocalypse. My hair growing long looks like Alfalfa's in the back, Doc Brown's on the sides and George Costanza’s on top. Plus I've discovered that I don't look good bald. So when things get more real in 2021, and scissors and knives become guarded items for the cutting of meat from the few remaining animals, I'll be in trouble.
I hope that if I ever get zombified, it's after the first ten days of my last haircut and it can just stay that way until I get burned.
Finally got a haircut last night. For the first time in months I can recognize and (sort of) like the man in the mirror.
The barber and I both kept our masks on (me using my hands), and given how much hair I had accumulated, they barely had to touch my actual scalp even when using the clippers.
Living with my hair so long has been like dealing with a pet that has to be close to you but refuses to love you back. If another lock down happens, at least I'll be good for another three months.