I shaved my beard today. That facial hair that made me look like a 50-year-old man is gone. I took a mug-shot, posted it online, and the number of likes went berserk. Now I am talkin’ about a rain of likes, emoji reactions, and comments, most of them funny. Why? As people have stated, without the beard, my appearance is as if I am twelve. In general, this shouldn’t be a problem for me; however, I like myself with the beard.
On the other hand, my parents and grandparents like me more without facial hair, which is a bit annoying to listen to their thoughts when my five o’clock shade starts coming up. So, if I prefer having a beard, why so much commotion over it? Well, tomorrow, I’ll need to check in the Bureau of Employment to get back on the list of workforce candidates. It beats me why I keep doing it since I’ve never heard someone got the job through the system. The second thing is a trip to the post office where I’ll need to send one copy of my book to a friend that lives up in the north, and the third thing is to visit the local library and negotiate some deals. It’s going to be a long day running errands, trying to strike a deal with the organizations that might help me protrude myself in society and boost my career. And I am getting nervous about it. My anxiety, panic attacks, and nerves are acting up more than usual. “Breath, try breading,” my mind is telling me while also making me hyperventilate. But hey, I tidied my style, got positive reactions on my new look, and I should be relaxed – only if I wasn’t busy thinking about what’s gonna happen tomorrow. Conspiracy theories are playing all-time best motion pictures of public humiliation, and it’s not like stage fright, not at all. This is much worse, like a compilation of disasters with funny trumpet tunes buzzing in the background. Damn, no sleep for me tonight.