MONDAY DIARY: ALMOST EXCRUCIATINGLY TRUE STORIES: WHEN BRAINS ATTACK

You know, I think I look good baldish.  When I had hair it was full of cowlicks and was a bit unmanageable anyway.  Plus, our family tends toward very fine and free willed hair so everything made having hair difficult - wind from having the car window down, wearing hats (which I enjoy doing,) the price of gas in Tanzania . . .

And so I really, really think I am over the whole "Oh my gosh I am baldish" thing.  Except - EXCEPT, about once very other month I have this dream that I comb my hair just slightly differently and the result is that I discover that all this time really did have a full head of luscious hair!

Weird.

I scare myself sometimes.

Of course, the next dream is that I get my hair cut at the Hershey Barbershop again where one of the Hershey girls used to cut my hair until I was too embarrassed to go any longer.

So it was the same thing with turning 50.  I thought I was perfectly Okay with it.  But so many people joined in on telling me that it was going to be Okay that I started thinking, "Maybe this isn't Okay."

So the whole thing starts playing with you . . .

I am SO GLAD that I am not a bishop.  How do they put with us priests?

This is one of drawbacks of celibacy - there's no wife there to say, "You're eating with your mouth open," or "You've worn those pants 5 days in row and you are not stepping out of the house like that," and finally, "Oh you big oaf.  You're just turning 50.  Get over it and get to work."

"And pick up some milk on the way home."