Hair today, gone tomorrow

I went to get my hair cut today. That's usually quite a traumatic experience for me. Over the last three years, I've probably visited about fifteen different barbers/stylists in order to get a cut that I like.

Some places are cheap, others expensive; some places take four hours for a cut, others take seven minutes; some places use only scissors; others use nothing but clippers.

I work in a school and my colleagues regularly comment on the amount of effort I put into making my hair look good. Note: colleagues, not five year olds, before you start getting all smart.

Some would call it vanity. So would I.

I believe that hair says a lot about a person. Hair should look good. Just because it's a load of dead cells protruding from the top of your head, doesn't mean you shouldn't care for it.

Which is why I wash and condition my hair every day. Sometimes twice a day for the sheer hell of it. I live life on the edge.

Then, I spend a good ten minutes getting it to look semi-decent (as long as the cut's done a good job) by manipulating it with a tub of 'Matt Paste', that costs the ridicuously exorbitent amount of £19.99 per tub.

However, today I saw that this excessive amount of effort with my hair could be starting to show. In today's financially astute world, I would liken what I saw today to 'negative equity'.

As the barber pulled the right-hand side of my hair back, I believe I saw a...I can't even bring myself to say it...a receding hairline.

I haven't checked again. I'm too scared.

This could be due to the excessive amount of attention that I pay it. It could be due to age - I'm 29. Almost past it, as many of my younger friends regularly say. The gits.

Either way, I'm worried. I'd rather have the Ebola virus than lose my hair.

To deny the symptoms to myself is the only way that I can live with this condition. So, from now on, I shall only be concentrating on looking at the left hand side of my head of hair.

The right hand side is evil and doesn't deserve any attention whatsoever. Evil, I tell you...