It's 2009.
I am going to turn 29 this year. I am going to be twenty-nine glorious years old, so why am I still getting pimples? I'm not talking about the occasional day-ruiner pimple. I'm talking about an attack of little red fuckers that will not rest until I cry each night and try to remember when my complexion was ever this bad and arrive at the decision that it has never, ever been this bad, and maybe I'm being punished for some reason. And the best part? They only tend to show up on Friday, just before I am to spend the weekend with my honey.
No, he doesn't care. Well, maybe he does, but he's good enough to tell me that he doesn't care. He also tells me that he likes me in my glasses, which is good because even though I semi-like my glasses, I absolutely loathe the fact that I am now a slave to them with my red eyes rebelling against my contacts.
(Which, my doctors have decided, has nothing to do with the contacts but with a combination of factors of which even they are unsure. Awe. Some.)
Anyway, if someone could explain this phenomenon to me, that would be nice.
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