I was thinking this morning, as I moisturized my freshly washed face, how much it sucks to have the skin of a 14 year old when I am in fact 39 years old. Then I stopped and remembered that no, actually my skin was better when I was a teenager than it is now. Can we just talk about that for a minute?
I did not have acne as a teenager. I had the odd pimple here and there but nothing significant and I realized how fortunate I was at the time and still do. My issue is that now, if I were trying to get pregnant – which I am not. Dear sweet Jesus, I am not, but anyway I am quite certain the minute I ovulate I get a zit on my chin and/or in the fold where my nose meets my cheek instantly. The same things happens within mere moments, I’m sure, of good old Aunt Flo’s actual arrival. They are usually ginormous and even though I am now treated to more pimples than ever before, like I am indeed an adolescent, my skin does not recover from said pimples like an adolescent but rather like an adult woman who is starting to look a little more closely at anti-wrinkle creams and I end up with dark spots where the offending zit was for at least a couple of weeks after.
It’s all bullshit.
So here I am with my roots starting to show – snowy white roots at my temples and basically all over my whole head except the back, looking exhausted because part of my monthly cycle includes a trip to insomnia-town, and yet wearing enough make up to stop Tammy Faye in her tracks because I’m trying to cover these two growths on my face. I feel pretty.
Truth be told that is the only thing I am grateful for right now that this is all happening right now and not 10 days from now. 10 days from now I should be over all this bizz and enjoy the 5 days I get every month of feeling semi well rested with clear skin and pants that fit. It shall be a very Merry Christmas indeed.
For the time being I’m basically just grateful I waxed my mustache on the weekend because I was called in for an impromptu dental appointment yesterday (off of a cancelation list) and all I could think was thank god I am not sporting the full Burt Reynolds because they get all up close and personal with one’s face and it’s nice for them to work in an unencumbered area.
I also have a hair appointment next week so aforementioned roots will be addressed as well. So I will be looking gooood – aside from the inevitable bloat that is sure to come once I partake in Christmas cheer, Christmas cookies, Christmas chips, Christmas Carbs, and Christmas everything destined to give me the diabeetus. Oh and don’t forget the dark shadows under my eyes as I attempt to finish the shopping, wrapping, actually do some baking, and then a bit of traveling. Tis the Season to neglect all good common sense when it comes to self care!
If you are currently feeling hormonal I’d also like to recommend that you don’t watch the West Jet Christmas commercial because otherwise you’ll be standing in your kitchen before 6 am waiting for your Keurig to make you the coffee with tears rolling down your cheeks and making a concerted effort not to sob. That is, unless, you find crying cathartic – then by all means, watch it twice!
For now, I shall indulge in a little late in the day caffeine because I’m not going to sleep well anyway and may as well get some stuff done!
Season’s Greetings from Me & Estelle (name I’ve given giant under the skin chin zit; she’s sassy).