Ahh, the Stupidity (aka Phantom Hair Panic)

I truly, truly, truly am an idiot. This morning confirms it. Okay, the details...

This morning I was checking things out in the bathroom mirror. You know the drill: is my nose still in the middle, do I still have two eyes, are my ears still attached, is the dry skin next to my mouth getting better, etc. And, while still doing the close up inspection, I noticed a HONKIN' HUGE HAIR! In a NOT ACCEPTABLE place! There, growing out of a (tiny) mole on my left cheek, was a wiry ginger hair! Excessive use of exclamation points aside, I was in "Holy C@#p! How long has that been there?" land.

So, in a panic, I reached for my trusty tweezers, and proceeded to undergo an emergency face-hair-ectomy. I grasped and I grabbed, I cursed and I moaned, but I just couldn't get the bugger! Frustrated by two futile minutes of unsuccessful tweezing, I tossed the tweezers into the corner, leaned back for a deep breath, then went in again for another look.

And, low and behold, realized that for the past few minutes I had been (a) in a major panic about, and (b) mangling my face with tweezers over . . . a stray hair from my head, growing where it is supposed to grow, that just happened to have been slept on at an odd angle and was sticking out sideways. A little dab of gel or a hairpin, and all could be saved.

Apparently it is time for NEW GLASSES!