I am almost officially having a quarter-life crisis. What, you may ask could possibly induce someone of my nature into having one so early in life. Well, I'm going bald. Yes, folks, I have a receeding hairline, and I just noticed it this summer. I grew up with a head of hair so thick that I actually made barbers earn their money. I was once told that I could give half of my hair away and still be covered just fine. I was also told that hair comes from your mom's side of the family, and luckily my grandfather on that side had hair a week after his chemo was over. Life was good, and it seemed like my hair and I would be friends forever. Now, I see it retreating almost as quickly as the French... I'll be on Rogaine by the time that I'm 30.
So I'm losing my hair prematurely, my brother is leaving Stillwater forcing me to shoulder all the bills of a 74 year old house and the loneliness comensurate with living alone, and it appears that a certain university has fallen on hard times and is not going to hire very many flight instructors at all... At least I've got my cushy desk job, and we're getting internet access at the flight center. Now another government entity will pay me to convoginate...
burned out, and needing convogination,
Jeff C.
