Not By The You Know What On My Chinny-Chin-Chin

Man, it happened again. I’m just sitting here at my desk, preparing for a major client meeting, rubbing my face unconsciously when I feel it. That big, dark, LONG, hag hair is back on my chin! What’s up with that? I can’t see it in the mirror in the morning (probably a result of my fear of looking at myself too close or too long in the mirror). But then, out of nowhere, it’s back. Okay, friends. I’ve been with a few of you over the last few days. This hair is big. Why doesn’t one of you gently point that out to me? Surely you must have just been floored to see that thing on my face. This hair has come along with this season of my life. I am a fine haired blond. Body hair was not part of my formative years. At least not in the places it shouldn’t be: like on legs, arms and CHINS! While sitting at my desk I tried to pluck it out. Shouldn’t have been that difficult. But it was a slippery thing. So I went into the bathroom to see if I could get a handle on it and yank it out. How come, on a floor with engineers and few women in other offices, when nine-times-out-of-ten there is nobody else in the bathroom, this time another chick arrives at the same time? And then, she isn’t using a stall. She stops at the mirror to put on make up. Now it is really awkward to go to the mirror and pluck out that huge hair. Quickly thinking I change my mirror check to look like I was trying to reposition a contact. Then return to my desk, dying of embarrassment with every person I pass, sure that hair is all they see. Back in my office I use mind power and pure determination to pull that sucker out. It is gone now. Waiting in hibernation. Storing up strength underneath. Waiting to sprout forth into that big dark, LONG hag hair on my chin again. Aging sucks.