In January, regarding next weekend of this eleventh month of this limitless pandemic, I thought flattened by numerous weights: COVID-19, Zoom calls, the grind of winter season working, anxiety. I was eager for a change—anything that would jolt me out-of my personal tired condition and into a prickly awareness. As my boyfriend, Cole, and I squeezed into my top-floor suite restroom, I stared into my personal lightweight, jagged echo, evaluating recent years of wavy progress to my head—bleached by sunrays, split by temperature and dryness and curled by several months of relentless moisture. We parted my personal lengthy, honeyed locks and pinched my locks into four ponytails. I exhaled significantly: “Okay, I’m prepared.”
I moved inside bathtub in a recreations bra and shorts and held one ponytail perpendicular to my head. Wielding a set of scissors, Cole sawed through my thicker hair, tugging inside my scalp as he hacked through the hair, additionally the very first ponytail decrease to the bath tub flooring.
We duplicated the process for three extra ponytails, abandoning chaos of comically uneven clumps. I happened to be reminded of whenever my loved ones would grab four pairs of scissors and audience around our very own wonderful retriever, Daisy, giving this lady a sloppy DIY summer time haircut in our Indiana garden.