T.K. is my constant companion, but perhaps its moniker is unfair. After all, according to the omniscient Wikipedia, Trichotillomania is "an impulse disorder characterized by the compulsive urge to pull out one's hair, leading to noticeable hair loss and balding, distress, and social or functional impairment." I certainly don't wish to diminish the legitimate suffering caused by this disorder. But while I do have a compulsive urge to pull out my hair, any social or functional impairment and distress would actually result from my NOT pulling it out. For Halloween comes but once a year, and "Frida Kahlo" is a very obscure and cerebral costume. Also, the hair loss is noticeable only to me, because T.K. removes hair that no one wants or expects to see anywhere on a human being, ever.
I've been told I have "good eyebrow game" (pictured below), and I take this as a compliment. But good eyebrow game takes practice. And in my case, practice consists of poking my face really hard with a sharp object several times a day: at work while on a phone call; in the car while in the passenger seat; in the car while in the driver's seat stopped at a red light; sitting in a chair under a lamp with baseball on TV in the background; and in the bathroom mirror while watching my kids in the bathtub behind me. Fortunately, every one of these scenarios usually provides many, MANY collateral reasons for poking my face really hard with a sharp object. So I'm kind of killing two birds with one stone here. It's very efficient when you think about it, and I'm grateful that my simian genes have given me an unexpected route to multitasking.