So I shaved. First time in over a year I've seen my upper lip.
I look 30% more alive.
Strange how I struggled with this choice. I liked my mustache but I was tired of it. I grew tired of the extra minutes required to tame it every day. I grew tired of food staying in it rent-free. However I enjoyed the notoriety that came with a big, ridiculous mustache.
Here is the mustache in question:
It is grand, no?
Unfortunately, this is more how it usually looked:
this does not please me.
But I struggled with the identity that would be lost with it. I had not only become attached to it, I had equated it with myself. Once gone, it would take another year to grow back. I wasn't sure I could hack it.
Last week, I was late to work twice because of extra time needed just to make the goddamn mustache symmetrical.
So I cut it off in the middle of the night after it woke me by tickling my nose.
And you know what? I'm still me.
And you know what else? Only two people seem to have noticed.
Long story short: Nobody cares. Do what you want. Be you.
