Over the last few months, be it my change in birth control, be it stress, be it increased chocolate intake to soothe said stress, my face has stolen a page right out of adolescence, breaking out unceasingly, one blemish after another. This is exactly what you need when working your way up the ladder at work. Hello Mr. Banker, me and my blemish have arrived. Yes, I am 13 years old. Make-up only goes so far and with my limited make-up knowledge/capability... even less. So it has been, one disappears, another one takes it place. I, as most of us, can't keep my hands away, messing with each until it becomes a scab, less coverable by make-up and even more the billboard for bad skin. All the build up to say, this time around, I determined to not touch this new addition creeping up on my chin. I knew that I had a lunch with some bankers today and prayed that if I played by all the rules, washing my face morning and night, religiously keeping my hands away and cleaning all linens that could even chance an encounter, it would at least be dwindling in time for lunch today. Well good news...apparently all the "rules" are a bunch of crap. Yes, crap...as in rubbish, lies, opposite of that which is true. When I woke up this morning my blemish had become a mountain on my chin. MOUNTAIN! It was so far under the skin that there was no hope of even trying to mess with it and all my cleaning had made the skin on it so taught and shiny that it practically reflected the light like a bald spot protruding from my chin. As I am messing with it in the mirror, trying to figure out how to attack the camouflage situation, I am complaining to John about how I keep breaking out and I just don't get it. He of course is offering his sympathies of "I am sorry that you are breaking out" "It is strange that it is happening one after another" "It really isn't as bad as you...oh my goodness, that is huge, let me see, it is like a boil." Thanks John, I feel so much better. Great, so now I am the super professional grownup complete with shiny boil under heavily make-up'd chin. Yes, me and my own personal Mt. Rushmore are going to go far. What makes it worse is that I have been fighting against the fact that I apparently look much younger than I am. My boss thought I was only 24 which I thought was ridiculous until I got carded on my way into the balcony at the Warren Theatre. Am I 21? Yes, I'm 21. Doesn't my humongous pimple give it away??!! I tried toothpaste, cold, heat...everything I can think and it only grows. It is the hulk of blemishes, the Hercules of pimples and is doing everything in it's power to take me down. As I type it is throbbing, probably from the toothpaste attempt that I am pretty sure burned off a layer of skin. So, I give up. If you need me, me and my 18 year old self will be accepting the award for largest blemish ever, chin category and torching that sucker with fire. CSI: Miami and chocolate ice cream, here I come. Well...we come...dang pimple.
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