Gimme a head with hair! Long, beautiful HAIR!

I have always wanted long, flowing, all the way down to my waist hair, just like the women on the covers of romance novels. This cannot be for a couple of reasons. First of all, my hair grows at a ridiculously slow rate and it's finer than baby fine. I have a lot of it so I'm not showing scalp or anything, but superfine hair tends to turn into a rat's nest in anything more than a gentle breeze. And, as we've established, I'm really quite lazy. By the time my colour-treated, slow-growing hair reaches a length of any substance, it's so badly neglected that it looks like shit so I have to cut it and start all over again. I have been repeating this cycle for a couple of decades now, it's not likely to change.

With my hair destined to be no longer than shoulder-length in perpetuity, I have to focus on some of the positives of super slow growing hair. Specifically, I can get away with shaving my legs somewhere close to never in summer, and even less often in winter. A lazy woman's dream!

But (and there's always a but) this neglect of self-care comes at a price. Turns out you're way more likely to cut yourself using a cheap razor to hack away at longer stubble. A shaving nick in the shower turns into a scene from a low production value horror movie pretty quickly, and even a shallow cut on the back of one's knee is really annoying when jeans rub against it. Enter the bandaid. Clearly the one I chose employed some kind of fucking contact cement. It held on long enough for me to forget all about it, and the glue residue held on for longer still. Even The Parasite was appalled by my shoddy boo-boo care and missed no opportunity to point out the bandaid outline on my leg.

And what happened the very next time I got around to shaving my legs?

I believe the lesson to be learned here is... don't bother trying.