Wednesday, May 14, 2008

i can't breathe with all this steam

I had a $150 facial downtown last night, yet I still owe my roommate money for toilet paper. Where is the rational in my life? My job certainly has its perks. But I'm living like a rich-poor person.

She must have extracted a hundred nothings on my face that I was oblivious to having. I thought I had fairly clear skin. Even so far as to be quite proud of brushing on a bronzer and carrying on with my day. But as I lay there, I kept wondering what the hell she was doing.

Ouch. Owwwwwwwwch. Fists unknowingly clenching. What is she using? Some medical tool? Her finger nails? Oh God. What IF she IS using her fingernails? Are her fingernails clean? What if she's making my skin worse? There's NOTHING there! She's clearly gone mad and feels the need to fake clogged pores. Who does this woman think she is?

When it finally ended, she informed me that living in the city makes your pores even worse. Thanks for that. As I was walking to work this morning, my mind wandered, as it usually does, and I began to feel a mild neurosis coming on. My face is freshly cleansed, but it's happening all over again! All this dirt and smog and the smell of Burger King in the morning and people's bad breath. It's all seeping into my pores and there's nothing I can do about it!

Except to get more facials.

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