I have a confession. I hate hair. I mean, I get really, REALLY grossed out by hair. Not the hair that is secured attached to a person - I'm generally ok with that hair. What I'm talking about is loose hair, shedded hair. I have long ago recognized that for this very reason I could never be a hair-stylist. I would be too busy gagging the in washing sinks to actually do my job.
Lest you are concerned about me being biased about the source of hair, rest assured, I am not. My own fallen hair grosses me out as much or even more that anyone else's. I try to do my part after showing. When I pull loose strands from my head, I deposit them in the garbage can. But I can never get them all. After using the blow dryer, there are many more that fall to the floor. Those are the ones that trigger my gag reflex. The ones on the bathroom counter. The stray ones that land elsewhere throughout the house. I have decided the only way to eliminate these unwanted visitors to my bathroom is to shave my head. However, I love the attached hairs too much to let them go. There is a fine line between my love and hatred for hair. And apparently that line is a firmly grasping follicle.
12 hours ago