Part way across town a sudden feeling of vulnerability came over me. Not sure for what reason, but a certain sensation became consuming in the recesses of my awareness perception. Certain it was not simply the depths of 21st century paranoia, I nonetheless began feeling something of my private life was openly exposed to the world. I checked buttons, shoelaces, and well, other apparel closures. No, everything snapped, tied and (phew) zipped. Yet, still the awareness perception.

This perception is of the kind of feeling we have when we are in the shower. Lathering away, singing a medley of our favorite Ethel Merman hits, just belting them out; then suddenly, the awareness perception. Someone is in the room. Talent scout? Psycho? We slide open the curtain hoping to see Ed McMahon, expecting to see Tony Perkins, but nothing. No one. Just as we begin to close the curtain an arachnid who curiously looks like a cross between Ed, Tony, and Ethel scurries across the floor. Awareness perception.

So, there I am, standing exposed to the world, a world I am trying to cope with and stay composed in so I can live with some normalcy. Vulnerable before all, yet grasping for composure after the all dressed check list is completed. What odd behavioral patterns. Dressed, composure, vulnerable, exposure. I must be missing some narcissistic equation.
Hmm? Composure+exposure. Aha! The ‘pose’ parts equal appearance. So, they equate as part of the solution that results from combining of their prefixes. Com. and Ex. Ex can also be used as a multiplier. so, COM x BEHAVIOR=APPEARANCE. Hmm? Try it even more equation-like.

COM B=APPEAR. Augh!! COM B!

Oh reality. Harsh reality.

Can mortal man be held in the coils of such reality and not his soul expire? Can reality be gathered to such frail existence and it not be scorched by reality’s consuming fire? Can any knowing not be known? Can you substitute the soup of the day for another role?
Nay. Oh, nay. Here I stand. Out and about with… augh!… Morning hair! Uncombed, exposed, morning HAIR! The kind of HAIR! that always is capitalized. HAIR! that is always followed by an exclamation point. HAIR! meant to remain at home and to never go public. HAIR! which all night was: tossed with each turn, matted against the mattress, pushed and pulled by the pillow, shoved and disheveled by the sheets, and dashed and darted during dreams. Tangled, twisted, frizzed and frazzled, standing up , pointing out and sideways

Morning hair!

Quickly look about. No faucet, no fountain, no sprinkler to wet the wildness tame. What misery has befallen this tattered soul betrayed. Only one way out. Drastic measure to be sure but the only way. The only noble course, jog.
The only acceptable outside of the home reason for the morning hair! look is if you have been working out. So jog. Jog past would be ridiculers, turned admirers of your physical fitness. Jog, leaving embarrassment standing at the corner. Jog with hair proudly displaying the trademark of Spartan attention to early morning athleticism and not marked by capitalization or vain exclamation.

Yes jog home with marathon winning hairstyle. Shower. Tame. Tone. Invigorated. And, with nice hair, ready for another normal day,.