Friday Was One Of Those Days

Friday was one of those days. I woke up early (well, early for me), feeling good and ready to take on the world.  I made breakfast, pancakes, bacon and eggs. I even had orange juice. I got it yesterday after having been out for a few days. Eating breakfast from a TV tray I kicked back in my easy chair, glanced through the latest issue of Mother Earth News, and thought about all the things I needed to accomplish before the art show I would be exhibiting in the following Friday.

 The plan. for the day included shaving  my head. Since I’m mostly bald anyway, I like to finish the job Mother Nature started. I tend to put it off though, so by the time I get around to actually doing it I’ve always grown enough hair that I need to take it down with clippers before using the razor.

After finishing breakfast I stacked the dishes in the kitchen sink and thought about how nice it would be when the dishwasher I ordered the day before arrives. I detest doing dishes almost as much as I detest shaving my head. Of course I don’t procrastinate washing dishes as long as shaving my head or I wouldn’t have any plates left to eat from.

Then I headed to the bathroom, got out a big beach towel and spread it on the floor so any hair falling while I buzzed it with the clippers wouldn’t get embedded in the bathroom carpet. In a final moment of procrastination I decided to check e-mail, Facebook, Flickr and maybe play a couple rounds of Free Cell on the computer before tackling the chore at hand. Procrastination is one of my greatest skills.

Finally returning to the chore at hand I pulled the clipper from it’s stand, pushed the switch and to the buzz of a small electric motor began removing my hair. The fuzz started floating off my head like down from a plucked goose. All was good. The act of actually grooming my bald head is ever as bad as the anticipation.

I paused a couple times to brush away some hair that was sticking to the head of the clipper, and each time promptly resumed the job of mowing my scalp. Suddenly, without warning, the electric whir ceased. I checked the clipper and there appeared to be a small amount of hair stuck between the blades. I brushed it out thinking by some strange quirk the hair jammed the cutter. With that accomplished I switched the device back on, applied it to my head, and again it abruptly stopped. After trying a couple more times with the same result I concluded my clipper had just died.

Reality slowly entered my mind. Only about a third of the hair that needed to be removed before I could use the razor had been cut. I wouldn’t be able to complete the job until I got another clipper. I don’t have a spare so the only way I could replace it would be to buy a new one.　

Then the final humiliation struck me. I would have to leave the house with my partially trimmed hair and go to the store. Swallowing my pride I headed out the door, made the 10 mile drive to the nearest Walmart, and looking like a kindergartner who had been messing with the scissors purchased a new clipper so I could go home and finish the task I had started.

My day that had begun with enthusiasm and a greater than usual determination to work past my normal procrastination tendencies had been seriously derailed. I finished trimming and shaving my head, took a shower, made a sandwich for a late lunch, watched boring afternoon television while I ate, then headed to the bedroom for a long nap.

Productivity be damned!!

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 Image and text copyright 2010 Dave Michael.  No portion of this article may be reproduced without permission of the author.