2002-02-08 - 2:04 p.m.

It's the weirdest thing.

After impulsively shaving my lil beard on Sunday, I immediately regretted it. Gone was my rugged, backwoodsy appeal. The devil-may-care facial hair that my crazy winter hat accentuated so well had slipped down the sink. So I haven't shaved since.

But it looks like I shaved say, two days ago. The hair just isn't coming in like it used to. I mean, all the hairs are there, but it's as if they're afraid to peek their heads too far past my epidermis for fear of being lopped off yet again. This, after all those weeks of getting comfortable and letting down their collective guard.

So though I technically am sporting a six-day beard, it looks more like a deucer.

What does this mean? Damned if I know. But at this rate (fast approaching zero) I'm never going to have to shave -- or even trim -- again.

In other news, these last two days have been fun -- after work, that is. Work is hard, work remains work. From Monday to Wednesday, I generally left around 7:30. Yesterday I cried two tears in a bucket, said fuck it, and left at 4:30. Not like I was sneaking out that early, but compared to 7:30 it's like a half day. Unfortunately, next week will be more of the same.