Identity Crisis
I’ve had them all, Peter Kay, Chris Moyles - but if one more person calls me Michael Stone I’ll have to think very carefully about knocking them off and calling it a work of art!
I never really realised that our hair was so closely linked with our identity - so I thought nothing or going to my local barbers on Saturday and uttering those little words - “frig it - just give me a number 2 all over”.
I really should have known when he looked at me and said “are you sure?” - but nothing would stop me going ahead with, what hindsight tells me was a stupid mistake! “Aye, why not - it’s the summer!”
One stroke of the remmington hedge trimmer and already I knew I wanted to stop him, already I knew I didn’t like the perfctly rotund head that was emerging from under the everpresent head of hair I always had.
I consoled myself with taisé chants of “it’ll grow back” - then someone informed me that it would go through a “laugh out loud at me” phase of terribleness, when I wouldn’t be able to do anything with it. I believe women call it “growing it out”.
So call me Mr Potatohead, see if I care - the fact is, it’s round and it’s not receding too much so pheww - by the time I see anyone again it’ll probably be “growing out” and if nothing else I’ll have given everyone a little entertainment value.
Why any larger guy does this is beyond me, I have a big head - to discover I had a bigger chin (or set thereof) came as a bit of a wakeup call - Mullan you need to lose that weight again!
It’s a strange feeling - I thought I’d have to go along to the hospital and pretend to see something in the scan - I imagined a conversation that went a bit like this:
The great thing was that Katie and Shauna decided to toddle along the first mile and finished a whole one minute and 5 seconds before me - now try telling Katie that she didn’t win!