Five Sentence Story #8

This morning I looked in the mirror and did not see the man I want to be. Somewhere between stubble and full on beard, my facial hair, as well as my whole being, was having an identity crisis. I ran the blade along my jaw bone and down my neck. Quickly I realized there was no turning back and that I had a one way ticket to "chin-strap" town. Reviews, to this point, have been mixed at best.