The speed of hair growth that I endure gets pretty ridiculous sometimes. I get a 5 o’ clock shadow at noon and can grow a full beard in just under a week. I grew my first beard in 10th grade and was immediately dubbed “Abe”. The name sticks today with some friends from back then.
This can turn pretty bad during times that Melanie is off at college. I don’t particularly care to impress anyone so there are days where the general nuisance of shaving keeps me from trimming that swarthy facial jungle. In mere days I evolve into a frightening beast, reading history books at my local coffee shop and scribbling illegible runes in my tome of a sketchbook.
I recall the first time being clean shaven after having a beard for at least five years. My chin felt strange but the oddest feeling was that of my lip. I almost couldn’t feel it at all. Almost as if I had lost an arm and was feeling a phantom limb I would reach out while thinking and, alas, nothing would be there to greet me. The ghastly feeling lasted for about a week, that is, until I bit my lip.