procrastinate NOW!!!

Eight weeks ago Maria mentioned that I needed a haircut. I disagreed.

Six weeks ago Maria mentioned that I needed a haircut. A part of me agreed with her but a part of me disagreed. I have this thing about barbers - mainly, the fact that I still call them barbers should be the biggest clue. Until the age of 12 I wore a cap to (and from) school as part of my school uniform. The rules for length of hair were fairly strict - it had to be off your ears, off your collar. I suppose the rule for length of hair was: hair should have no length. However, once I entered my final year, we no longer had to wear caps - it was a privilege! Along side this privilege was also the fact that our hair could cover our ears and approach our collars. From the age of twelve to sixteen I only had a haircut three times a year. From sixteen to eighteen this event was reduced to once a year. All of the haircuts I had were paid for by my mother. At the age of nineteen I went for a haircut and it cost me 90p ($1.60). 90p!! I was horrified. 90p meant that, with a 10p tip, a haircut cost me a whole English pound sterling. I realised that the next time I had a haircut it would cost me over a pound. Over a pound for just getting a haircut! Had the world gone mad??? So, I did what any sensible person would do - I stopped visiting the barber!

Now, as much as this made sense to me, I was a student for four years - no money for frivolities like haircuts or food - I was a teacher on the Burnham Scale - which meant I started on a salary of 4200 of your English pounds sterling and thus had no money for frivolities like haircuts or clothes - it did mean that my hair got a bit long.

Eventually I succumbed and got my hair cut. However, I didn't visit a barbershop, mainly because they no longer existed. I also couldn't visit a hairdressers because, well because have you seen the exorbitant prices they charge at those places?  And (horror or horrors), I have heard rumours that they actually wash your hair? Why would a grown man pay to have his hair washed? It made no sense to me. No, I got my haircut by a friend of a friend who, instead of accepting pictures of the Queen printed on coloured paper, happily walked out of the house with cans of food, with pictures of a cat on them. This was a method of payment I could understand. A haircut for six cans of cat food - made perfect sense to me! And so I kept my hair at a sensible length. (Well, I thought it was a sensible length but I also thought that was a sensible moustache!)

Eventually I got old and the time came to stop with the long hair. But I never went to a hair salon!

And suddenly, I realise that this is not what I am supposed to be blogging about. I am not supposed to be writing about haircuts from the 80s. I am supposed to be writing about procrastinating. Enough of this drivel - on with the blog post!!

It is now eight weeks since Maria mentioned that I needed a haircut - and I still haven't had one.

On the 10th of March I wrote a post saying that I was going to take my driving test - I still haven't.

Two hours ago I started this post (the one you are reading), informing Maria that I would just be a couple of minutes. It is now two hours later.

I'm pretty sure that I had a point to make but I seem to have drifted off. I should stop now. Hit publish. Go and do something constructive. I should stop procrastinating. And I will. Tomorrow I will stop procrastinating. I will stop putting off all those things that I said I would do, those things I should do. Tomorrow I will be Action Will. I will be decisive. I will be a man who gets things done. I will start tomorrow!

For now, I think I'll just go lie in front of the tele. You know, get the last bits of procrastination out of my system. But tomorrow I'll be a totally different person. Of course, you won't know about this change because there is no way I will have time in my busy schedule to sit down and write posts. Oh no. A man of action doesn't have time to sit at a keyboard, he is out doing things.

So, I suppose I should say goodbye.

Or maybe...maybe, maybe men of action write blog posts? Maybe men of action set targets like: I will write a blog post tomorrow! Actually, they probably say: I will write a blog post now! Damn! I'm all confused. Didn't I say, about twenty lines ago, I was going to hit publish? That's what I'll do! I'll prove I'm all action by hitting publi

Comments

[Helly]

We're the exact opposite of you guys. I love Alan's hair longer, and wish he'd consent to 'longer still'. I don't like it just longer but kinda scruffy longer - and he's always bitching about "I need a haircut! I need a haircut!" which starts when his hair is about a half an inch long (grrr!). Oh, and incidentally he goes to a real actual still-called-that barbershop to obtain haircuts. But I am against the haircutting because he gets this very short, shorn to the skull sort of thing, and I like it when his hair is just longer than his collar because it starts to curl (very cute, trust me) and I can wend my fingers round in it. The "awwwww!" factor and utter romance of this notion was negated by his brother-in-law who said, a couple of weeks ago, "Alan's wearing his hair longer! I like it. It makes him look much younger. I like it." So - you know, in addition to the wife's preference, now he's more attractive to heterosexual males. :-)

[J.A.S.]

In the list of things to procrastinate about, "get a haircut" is at least in the top 5. I will list the rest later.

[Blue Witch]

Lots of boys in early teenage years seem to be back in the late 70s/early 80s with hairstyles over here right now. One local secondary school ahs issued a diktat that if boys have long hair they must tie it back, as girls have to. One parent I know is threatening to take them to the Court of Human Rights, saying it infringes her son's human rights.

When she told me, expecting sympathy, I told her that she had too much time on her hands and needed professional help. I doubt she'll ever speak to me again, but I'm highly relieved about that.

[J.A.S.]

After re-reading this post today (you know I am good at re-reading things) I noticed that I failed to congratulate you for becoming more Mexican "But tomorrow I'll be a totally different person".