I hate shaving.
I believe that it is the worst task ever; right up there with cleaning toilets and giving birth. (this could change after I’ve actually done it)
I’ll blame it partially on the fact that I’m 5’10” and have ridiculously long legs. Whatever the reason, I haven’t done it in like, 2 months or something. Now, having gotten my legs waxed back before the wedding, the hair on my legs wasn’t grown in terribly thick, so it’s not like I looked like a cavewoman or anything. My husband, however, isn’t a fan regardless, so he was at his breaking point.
I decided that instead of shaving, I would take the lazy man’s way out and have it waxed. Why not? It lasts longer, and I don’t have to do anything except for pay someone to do something for me that I don’t like doing in the first place. And why stop with just the legs? I think I’ll get the works, just like I did last time.
So yesterday morning, with Lemons along for the ride (and the pain) I did the unthinkable: almost-full-body-waxing. What is wrong with me? You think to yourself – “It won’t hurt as badly this time, I’ll be used to it.” “This’ll be fun! I won’t have to shave for a while!”
In the defense of the girls who did the waxing, I will say that it didn’t really hurt as badly, but even still, it doesn’t tickle. There just isn’t any type of mental prepping that makes it easier to take.
On the up-side, I won’t have to shave forever and I can wear something besides pants! YAY!
Who knows, maybe I’ll just keep going back.