Shaving Snafu

Yesterday morning was pretty typical.  Woke up at 7:32, not in any hurry to get started with the business of the day, perfectly aware that I had to be out of the house no later than 8:09 to make it to my morning meeting.  I did make it out of the house precisely at 8:09, but there was a good deal of bloodshed as a result.

I vaguely remember that my mom was worried about me the first time I shaved my legs.  Her concern seemed ridiculous then, but I’m starting to understand her point of view.  Even in the hands of someone with years of experience, a sharp razor can have a mind of its own.

Oddly enough, I seem to be getting worse at shaving as I get older, not better.  And it’s not because I’m so old that I’m losing the ability to hold things steadily.  I’m still in my mid-twenties for crying out loud!  I have two new wounds to show for yesterday morning, and there are at least four from previous days that haven’t finished healing yet.  My poor legs probably desperately wish they belonged to someone with more manual dexterity or someone who woke up with enough time to care about these things.

This also makes me super glad that I’m not a man.  At least when I cut myself, it’s somewhere not that noticeable on my legs.  Nobody cares if your ankle or knee is bleeding profusely at work.  If this situation happened around my face, it would be a whole new world of sad.  (Good job for handling that, guys.)

I might be turning over a new leaf soon.  There’s a Clocky alarm clock being shipped to me this very moment.  In case you don’t know/remember what that is, it’s the one that rolls away from you when it starts beeping.  It isn’t some weak “I’m going to roll to the other side of the bedside table” thing, either.  It jumps off of your bedside table so you have to chase it around the floor.  Can’t wait.  I was mostly reading reviews of it for humor value, but people seem to genuinely like the thing.  If they can handle crawling under their beds to find the alarm clock, I guess I can, too.

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