Five months into the yeard.

It's a gnarly, unruly crop just shooting out of my chin in just about every direction. A curly mop of salt and pepper constituting the bulk of my body's follicular population. It hides a portion of my face, warms that same space by the same token, and changes the world's perception of me as a whole... a multi-talented little mess, I suppose. It's a small dose of fun simply reacting to reactions that it generates on occasion. One month away from the half-way point. So far, so good.