After four months of waiting I was able to legally get a haircut yesterday.
Given how long barbershops have been closed here in Philadelphia, finding one with an open appointment slot was more luck than effort.
This was not my normal shop but by this time in the lockdown process I really didn’t care if the barber was good, bad or indifferent at the task to be carried out.
I went in with curls and flips flying in every direction under my ballcap certainly indicative of a person who had been living in the basement since the last week of February and left with a far more aerodynamic look. Of course I had to adjust my ballcap a bit to keep it on my head.
I just wanted to look good when they open the pod bay doors for my entrance into the secure zone of the hospital for my Onco/Hema testing and exam next week.