I forget how much more crisp and high-resolution a fresh cut can make me feel. Then I go months without one before finally making it happen.
For a good while, I’d been content to just lather up and drag a cheap razor over my scalp. But the longer I dd it, the less fun it began to feel like. The feeling that I was getting away with something led to the feeling that I was getting away from something I hadn’t necessarily needed but still missed.
Maybe it’s just as simple a thing as figuring out how often I’m willing to spring for the spruce-up, something more often than seasonal but less than weekly.