Hair today

I am six foot two inches tall. On a good morning. Your taller in the mornings. Did you know that? Apparently true. But I digress. I’m talking about my ever growing bald patch. Its getting to the point where I can no longer call it a double crown. Quite a tonsure I’m developing. Not I hasten to add because of my age. Certainly not through excess testosterone. No its my height. And the fact that I own the money pit that is Chez Rich. Not that the hair loss is stress related. No, it’s the fact that most of the doors are not six foot two inches tall. Most of the time these days I walk with a stoop. Always an attractive look. Stand up straight people tell me. Huh! all right for dwarves, or people who’s houses aren’t actively trying to kill them. But, despite having lived here for two interminable years now, occasionally I still clock myself a good un. And the other day, as I lay on the landing clutching my head I looked up and saw a clump of my hair stuck to the top of the bloodied door frame.

Its not enough that the place is trying to bankrupt me and maim me. Now its stealing my hair!