Into the fifth week of Lent, I have good news and I have bad news.
The good news is that I am still on track with my "penance" of not shaving. There is more and more obvious hair on my head, although it is very obvious that there is not more and more hair on my head. I had an uncle who, when he was in his early twenties, had someone tell him that $25 said he wouldn't shave his head. This was back in the Great Depression and $25 was a significant sum of money, so Uncle Felix shaved his head, won the bet, and took the money home to mom. For whatever reason, his hair never grew back, and for the rest of his life, Felix was as bald as billiard ball. Most of mine has grown back, but at least some of it must have talked to Uncle Felix's hair and decided to remain anonymous.
The bad news is that this has been a tough week. First of all, I took the opportunity to take off a bit of one of my fingers while slicing onions on a mandoline. Bled like a son-of-a-gun. Then, despite the fact that I am supposed to be working on lightening up, I spent most of the week being pissed about this and that; you know, really important stuff like who left the lights on in the garage.
I also have been really self-conscious about the unkempt look of my hair. There are those silly-looking sparsely placed single hairs on the top of my head, and there is the stuff down my neck that looks like algae growth. I debated whether or not trimming up these areas so that I looked a little less rustic would violate the intent of my Lenten endeavor.
Sand said I perhaps was being a bit scrupulous.
Scrupulosity is an unfounded apprehension and consequently unwarranted fear that something is a sin which, as a matter of fact, is not.
Unfounded and unwarranted. Like getting worked up over some lights in the garage.
In heaven, I assume there will be no garages, so life will be so much easier.
Remember, O Hairy One: Lighten thyself up.