I looked at myself in the mirror today and something occurred to me.

I don’t know anyone else who looks like me.

This may not sound like a blinding revelation, but in a world that seems to be increasingly filled with clones of people who either want to be in Jersey Shore, Hollyoaks or one of Katie “Jordan” Price‘s myriad pointless television appearances, it’s actually quite a nice realisation.

I mean, okay, I’m nothing special to look at. I haven’t cut my hair in ages and I regularly forget to shave when I’m stressed, so I currently look like a cross between, in my wife’s word’s “Cagney… or Lacey… I forget” and Brian Blessed. I mean, sure, I probably wouldn’t look out of place in a gutter right now, grunting and babbling in trampspeak with a bottle of MD 20/20 in one hand and a three-litre bottle of White Lightning in the other, but at least I’m unique. I remain unique even when I do bother to cut my hair and shave.

Part of this is, of course, due to the fact that I don’t know what to say to barbers. I have learned how to ask for two haircuts in my time on this Earth – well, three, actually, if you count “take it all off”, which I’ve never had the guts to do but am morbidly curious about trying sometime. I can ask for a “grade three all over” or a “grade three sides and back, short on top”. The grade three on top is low-maintenance. It just grows (at an alarming rate) – but I don’t have to do anything with it for several months. The other one requires hair gel, which most mornings I just can’t be bothered with.

That’s it, though. I could probably have cool hair if I tried. With the lion’s mane currently plonked atop my head, I could probably get it styled into something entertaining and poncey footballerish (at great expense, no doubt). But then I’d have to take care of it, and brush it, and get up early to make sure it still looked all right… No. I can’t be bothered with that shit. I’ll keep with my Cagney/Lacey/Blessed look for the moment and – here’s a deal for you – I will get a haircut and trim my beard to a respectable level when one of the following things happens:

1) I get a job interview for a job I actually want. (I have two applications for jobs I actually want submitted right now.)

2) My current shitty teaching job finishes.

Deal? Deal. Good night.