As you know, I’ve been growing my hair out since late last year. My original intention was to grow a mullet, but as I’ve said before, every time I get an opportunity, I lost my nerve. So, right now, I have collar-length disco hair.
Well, I get in to work this morning, and they’ve plastered the company dress/grooming policy all over my floor of the building. Even though I’m still following the letter of the law (all it says about hair is that it should be groomed), I can’t help but be paranoid that it’s all about me. Especially since I’ve started to grow the soul patch on my chin.
Of course, most likely, it’s just because it’s been unseasonably warm lately, and the females in the office have been strongly tempted to wear those near-flip-flops and spaghetti strap tops (both of them no-nos).
But then again, it could be about me. If I announce in the next few days that my quest for long hair is over, you’ll know why.