Once you start you can't ever stop. These are the words my mom repeated to me for the two years I had to beg before she would let me shave my legs. Many of my friends had started shaving around 12 or 13. I was 14 and starting 9th grade before my mom caved.
Her argument - no one could see the sparse blond fuzz on my legs, and she certainly didn't approve of boys rubbing my legs back then. (Wise beyond her years - a guy rubbing my freshly shaven leg a turn on to this day for me.) She kept telling me that shaving really wasn't as fun and glamorous as it sounded. She also pointed out that it wasn't something you could take back. Once you start, she would say, your hair turns dark and becomes stubble. You will be stuck shaving the rest of your life.
I am starting to think that her advice may apply to more than shaving my legs. I have put considerable time and effort into avoiding a "real" job. (I mean who else do you know that did not one, but two fellowships after a general surgery residency? ) I really thought I was ready to grow up and sit at the big girls table. . . that is until I got the call tonight that all is official, and I can actually start work tomorrow.
Am I ready for this? I am pretty sure that once I start down this role of actual responsibility I won't be allowed to stop. Is this another case of the idea being more fun than the reality? Guess we will find out . . in the meantime, I need to go shave my legs.
Good luck tomorrow!
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