chalk it up to the stress of the move, the change in climate, or my lack of sleep, but whatever the source, my complexion has taken on some serious pubescent characteristics (read: i've got a scorching case of acne). it looks like someone chucked a handful of gravel at my face. and i'm trying to not be superficial here, but why did this have to happen during my first week here in our new place? when i wanted to make that fabulous first impression that makes people want to invite me into their little social circles, not to be wary of me because they're afraid that the healthy rash on my face might be contagious? yesterday at church when i would meet someone, i would self-consciously try to present the relatively clear side of my mug so the mother-ship of all pustules parked on my left cheek wouldn't be such a distraction to conversation. it's like that stain commercial where the stain on the shirt is talking over the person wearing the shirt... you don't notice what the person is saying because you're too busy staring at the huge, screaming ketchup spill (or in my case, the festering orb).
and i'm not fishing for pity, just appreciate --the himdaddy zit is epic. it balks at the mere sight of cover-up. it's the kind where you lean down to pick something up and you notice the thing starts to painfully throb, like it's got its own circulatory system up in there or something.
and i had fasting breath. can i please have a do-over?