crucible of ennui

If I do end up having to shave my hair off, I’m going to get eyes tattooed on the back of my head.

Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention, please!
Do you wake every morning in shame and despair,
to discover your pillow is covered with hair,
what ought not to be there?  — Tobey, Sweeney Todd

I don’t know if this is a delayed karma bomb or an indication that something is wrong, but last night I learned that a quarter sized patch of my hair is missing.

Gone. poof. ¿adónde mi pelo fue?

Regardless of what caused the hair loss, it doesn’t look like it’s going to be growing back anytime soon from what I’m reading on the internet (purveyor of smut and needless worry). It could be 6 months to a year before it even starts to grow back. AND I don’t know if I’ll lose any more.

OMG - what if I loose little quarter-sized patches all over my scalp? That’s going to look pretty lame. If that happens, I’ll just shave my entire head and be done with it. On the other hand, this would be a fabulous excuse to grow a hat collection. (I won’t wear a beret since I had my ass kicked in 7th grade by 4 scary chola girls for wearing one). CRAP - tall people are going to notice it right away.

You know what’s really weird? Feeling my scalp. I never thought there would be a time that I wouldn’t have my hair. I took it for granted that as a female, I wouldn’t have to face hair loss.

And I have a horrible fascination with the little bald patch. My hand keeps gravitating to my head and my fingers search out and trace the hairless circle on the top of my head. It looks like a cantaloupe. A hairy cantaloupe.

Maybe this is just a present from life welcoming me to the beginning of middle-age. Or maybe Glenn is secretly cutting off my hair while I’m sleeping.

I’ll make a doctor appointment today.