I think I've just reached peak beard. Looking in the mirror this morning I suddenly realised Grizzly Adams was looking back. [1] How did that happen? When I looked yesterday I was still able to convince myself that I was simply progressing towards a full set. But this morning I'm seeing wild and woolly facial hair, the kind that means I could pass as the bear in the new Leonardo DiCaprio movie.

And J said I looked fine yesterday, so I don't know how this can be. Then again, I'm not sure she's really paying proper attention. Whenever I raise the issue of my hirsuteness she only ever says I'm not to grow one of those hipster beards she hates so much.

Otherwise she doesn't seem much bothered one way or another. "You look fine," she says every time I ask. She doesn't even look at me while she's saying it any more. I am beginning to suspect that maybe she didn't marry me for my looks in the first place.

To be honest, my beardiness is usually nothing more than a by-product of my laziness. "Oh, I can go another day without shaving," I think even as my chin starts to look like a badger's. [2] But now and again I do toy with the idea of seeing if I can grow a proper covering, partly to disguise the jowliness, partly because I think it will bestow on me the sense of dignity and maturity I have signally failed to achieve in every other area of my life.

But there's so much faff to it all.

I did once read an advice column which said that to grow a beard you have to stop shaving for six weeks. I never bothered reading beyond that. I was happy just to follow that advice. That's the kind of advice I like. Something that tells me to do nothing. All the other stuff – the shaping, the styling, the maintenance, the stuff that actually requires me to do something – well, that's what I have a problem with.

The result of this half-assed attitude to grooming is I now look a bit like Elvis Costello in his beardy years. Think latter-day Paddy McAloon. [3] Turns out I don't look like a bearded John Hamm when I let it grow. I'm more Abu Hamza.

Back in front of the mirror I think I really should shave this off. But then I remember I'm on holiday next week. So who's going to care? The (cruelty-free) razor companies will just have to wait a little longer for my custom.

[1] I don't have to tell you who Grizzly Adams is? Yes? Then you're way too young to be reading this column surely. What do you want with my middle-aged maundering?

[2] I even have the two-tone colouring now.

[3] Admittedly he looks a little more God-like than I do. But that's to be expected given that he's a genius.