My beard's getting pretty long, now. In the bathroom mirror here at work, I noticed a white hair. Just a single white hair, very white against my dark beard. So, of course I had to pull it out. It's not a vanity thing; I don't think I'll care if I start going grey. It's just that it was out of place, taunting me, begging to be plucked.
And, no, that's not an invitation for my cubicle neighbor to come over and start pulling beard hairs.
I was thinking about my beard this morning on my walk to the T. It was pretty cold, but my beard kept my face pretty warm. I think if I remember to grab my hat tomorrow, then I should be fine. I probably would have even been fine if I'd grabbed an ear warmer. I don't think I'll need my ski mask, at least not yet. When I next decide to shave my beard, though, I imagine the ski mask will be useful. I wonder if I'll get a stronger reaction from that than I do from my hat. ("Nice hat, you fucking loser.")