Is there nothing more distressing or disconcerting, than the incessant, seemingly incurable itching that is provided by errant nose hairs? Seriously!! Of all the little trials and quirks that come with getting older, this bumper crop of nasal tormentors is by far in my estimation, the worse. I don't even mind so much the little armada of aches and pains that manifest themselves out of nowhere. Or the fact that my feet seem to be getting further from my arms. Or the sprouting of hair inside my ears, for God's sake. Somehow, I think the woods' elf look might be okay for me... But these nose hairs... Gr-rrrrr...
Oh sure... you can trim them all you like when you're at home. But it's never at home that they decide to emerge and manifest themselves, is it? I think they are somehow related to dandelions, in that they sense the trimmers and retract so to avoid being cut... much as dandelions do when they feel the reverberations of a lawnmower. No, it's always when you're at work, sitting in front of your 'puter, surrounded by your workmates, that you feel the tickling on the outside edges of your nostril... No mirrors, no place to do a cursory examination... but you have to get rid of it. It's torture!! So, as surreptitiously as you can, you fish around with the end of your finger, to see if you can locate the offending follicle. If you're lucky enouh to find it, your only solution is to grasp it in a firm all around grip (as much as you can do this using two fingernails...) and pull... quickly, sharply, decisively.
I pulled one this morning that must have had roots in my friggin' pancreas! I almost swooned from the wave of pain that removing it caused. My eyes teared up and I could barely read my screen. It's almost enough to make you consider snorting Neet or Nair... *Sigh!* Such is the cross that we men have to bear as we age. Don't hand me stories about menopause and expect any sympathy, ladies. We men have real issues to deal with...
Oh sure... you can trim them all you like when you're at home. But it's never at home that they decide to emerge and manifest themselves, is it? I think they are somehow related to dandelions, in that they sense the trimmers and retract so to avoid being cut... much as dandelions do when they feel the reverberations of a lawnmower. No, it's always when you're at work, sitting in front of your 'puter, surrounded by your workmates, that you feel the tickling on the outside edges of your nostril... No mirrors, no place to do a cursory examination... but you have to get rid of it. It's torture!! So, as surreptitiously as you can, you fish around with the end of your finger, to see if you can locate the offending follicle. If you're lucky enouh to find it, your only solution is to grasp it in a firm all around grip (as much as you can do this using two fingernails...) and pull... quickly, sharply, decisively.
I pulled one this morning that must have had roots in my friggin' pancreas! I almost swooned from the wave of pain that removing it caused. My eyes teared up and I could barely read my screen. It's almost enough to make you consider snorting Neet or Nair... *Sigh!* Such is the cross that we men have to bear as we age. Don't hand me stories about menopause and expect any sympathy, ladies. We men have real issues to deal with...
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