The shaven ape sits at work on a Saturday

So here I am at work on a Saturday.
311 is blaring from my computer right now.
The actual work I'm here to do (I got here at 7:05 am) is finished.
Right now it's all just soaking up overtime.

Last night was all about hair: either the coloring of it or shaving it off.
The mop of hair of my head is now jet black (licorice black according to the box).
And my chest, belly, back (wasn't too much of that to begin with - small blessings),
and nether regions haven't been this smooth and hairless since I was ten.

I haven't decided if I like this or not. I will admit it's not as bad as I thought it would be
(and as I've said before - I've trimmed and 'manscaped' before - just not to this extreme)
And I drew the line (almost literally) at my calves, thighs, forearms -- so they are their
old hirsute selves. Overall, beyond feeling a little weird (and on some level, like a poseur-
trying to imitate a hairless guy) it's not bad. I'm neutral to it at this time. With a slight
lean toward friendship.

Now I'm playing a little Beck. Yeah, I should go -- but I at least need to stick around until
Craig gets here. I didn't think this out very well.

Random thought --- you know what I think my motto may be? Over the last, I don't know,
five days or so, I've found myself repeating the same phrase in several different, unrelated
situations --- here's the phrase --- "I don't even want to deal with this."

"I don't even want to deal with this." I have this creeping feeling that in nine out of ten
encounters in my daily life I could say this and it would be true. I don't think I want this
to be my motto -- it's not a very proud moment for me or anything.
Just something I noticed.