To be in the era of a pandemic and to find human touch elusive
Getting a haircut every 6 months becomes the highlight of the last half of a year
Where participating in conversation that neither side really cares about, is an active joy
There is something almost revitalizing, shedding the pelt of hair you gain over such a long time
You look half decent again, even if that means you don't quite looking the part
Even just a few laughs between strangers is enough to spark a familiar kind of happiness we once chased.
Every part of that is wonderful, until you get home to see they cut your hair unevenly, though I don't much mind, it's not anyone will see it for another 6 months.
