The price of beauty

I have problems.

For about the 8 bazillionth time, I've had to go put makeup on in the office restroom.

You may ask why I do this, and you would be right to wonder.

Is it the lovely green flourescent lighting, which makes every woman look and feel her best?
Is it the strange looks I receive from other bathroom visitors and custodial staff?
Is it the delightful air freshener, which lets out a perfumed mist every time it senses my approach?
Could it be the feeling of power I get as the woman in the stall behind me sits and suffers in silence because she just can't relax and do her thing knowing that I'm standing there listening to her?

But no, it's none of those. I'm just a lazy disorganized slob who can't get her trash together in the morning. I actually set my alarm to go off 15 minutes early this morning so that I could be sure to do everything I needed to. I was going to get up early, shower and actually style my hair, eat a healthy breakfast containing both carbohydrates and protien, and get to work early.

But then I had this weird dream about a pregnant friend who kept taking out her baby early because she just wanted to see it, kind of like a kid taking a peek at her Christmas presents. When I questioned the wisdom of this, she said it was fine, she was just going to be putting it right back. So I had to go back to sleep for 15 minutes, because I couldn't get up with that being the last creepy thing in my head.

And then I had to kill a spider in the shower.

And while I was in there I remembered that I had to shave my legs because I was wearing a skirt today because I'm going to the temple this afternoon. And I had to do a good job w/shaving cream and everything, because last time I didn't and it was really bad. Last time I took off a few layers of skin, and then it was so cold at church that I got goosebumps on my legs. Let me tell you, that does not feel good. That's the reason why Alaskan women are so hairy, because that mess hurts. Of course, we were discussing Joseph Smith in Liberty Jail, so it felt like bad form to be complaining. "Sure, being wrongfully imprisoned in a 5-foot-high jail cell with no blanket while your wife and children are suffering is bad, but have you ever felt goosebumps like these???" Anyway, point is, had to shave. Carefully.

Then I had to iron my skirt because it's linen and closely resembled one of those broomstick skirts that were so popular in 1995 if you were living in Alaska and didn't know any better.

And then there was possibly a wormhole or something, because all of a sudden I was late for work and had to run out the front door w/my makeup bag. Never got breakfast.

Then I spent the first two hours at work before I remembered that I was sitting there all nekkid-faced.

So ladies, if you ever see me in the bathroom, trying not to gouge out my own eye with an eyelash curler, please don't judge me.

And take all the time you need in there. I promise I'm not listening.

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