Please pardon my "graveyard humor"

The last, er, lunch
In a fit of irony, I decided to eat, as part of my last meal as a mourner, what should have been the first thing I ate as part of my first meal as a mourner, namely, a hard-boiled egg. This one, I cooked for myself, though. Oh, well.

It's a conspiracy, I tell ya
When my mother died, I went straight from Shloshim into the Shalosh HaShavuot/Drei Vachen/Three Weeks proceeding the Fast of Tisha B'Av, and couldn't get a haircut for almost two months. With my father's death, I'm going straight from Sefirah into Shloshim, and, again, won't be able to get a haircut for almost two months. Nu, do you think my parents wanted me to grow my hair longer?