I woke up ugly today. I’m not really sure what ensued between last night (when I strode confidently into a large meeting clad in an old sweatshirt, astoundingly tacky earrings made of bones, and a completely make-up free face) and this morning. I didn’t actually realize that it was a bad day at first. Sleeping wreaks havoc on my body, and my swollen-shut eyes, puffy cheeks, and the mouth guard I sometimes wear to prevent myself from any extracurricular tooth grinding have an astounding effect on my mirror; according to that particular medium, I start each day off as a post-match Manny Pacquiao.
It wasn’t until after I had showered and dressed that problems became apparent. I glanced in the mirror and realized that today would be one of those days when I used make-up not to highlight any natural beauty, but to cover up some natural ugly, and a heckuva lot of natural ugly, at that. I can’t pinpoint the exact problem with my appearance. I’m just having a bad face day.
This had been made doubly awful with the advent of a Fat Brain Day–even though the mirror informs me that I’m pretty comparably sized this week to last week’s version of myself, my brain is bloated with the conviction that I am, in fact, a walrus. I’ve only just realized that my attempts to “invisiblize” myself via my bulkiest sweater and a pair of jeans that only stay up because I’ve cinched them around me within an inch of my belt’s life have only compounded the walrus resemblance.
I’ve spent the last several hours squirming around in my seat periodically in vain attempts to shake the ugly off. It’s all for naught.
There is only one solution to this malady.
Please, somebody, drum up some compassion in your souls and bring a girl some chocolate, already.