Fun Times With Good O'l JPH

 I'm in the period where I've badly needed a haircut for a fortnight, it's sprouting from my scalp like forced rhubarb, but I am resisting getting it cut. 

I do this every time. 

I don't know why. 

I quite like getting my hair cut. My barbers do a decent job. It's not too expensive (though the price has doubled since I first started going there).

But I do this. 

I wait. 

And I'm still waiting. 

I think having no obligation to ever leave the house or see anyone but Susan might feed into my follicular complacency. But I'm doing a lot of work as a voluntary anchorite, the truest kind of "in cell", so my hairiness, like Samson's, is paying off.

Expect productivity without selfies. Which is the opposite of most modern working practices.  

*Hello. This is John from five days later. I got my hair cut. It looks great. Thanks.