going gray

March 7, 2007

I shaved today and trimmed my beard. I try to keep it rather neat looking, if possible. When I was done I looked in the mirror and something caught my eye. I raised my chin, and pulled in close to the mirror. My hand slowly reached up to my beard, when it began to tremble slightly.

Grasping the hair between forefinger and thumb, I pulled. A moment of sharp pain later I stared in horror at what I held so delicately betwixt my fingers. It looked like any other hair, but it’s grotesqueness was apparent from the color.

I had found my first gray hair.

Desperately I looked closer, inspecting each hair as I ran my hand through my beard to make them stand out some. Another was pulled. Then another. And yet another.

I was finally coming to terms (sort of) with the thinning hair, and now this? Thankfully, I recovered quickly from the initial shock of what I had witnessed. I called the ex, but she didn’t answer. I left a message relating the audacity of those hairs in my beard.

Later she laughed about it while we discussed the job interview situation mentioned previously. It seems things stack up on me until I am crushed under their weight. While these are all minor issues, I’m just ready to not have to feel that pressure.

I’m also only 27. Fate is a cruel mistress that conspires with DNA to add that bit of insult to injury.


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