It’s
11.08am. Sleeping at 5am appears to not have stopped me from waking up at 10am
today. In fact, refresh seems to be more of a word today then how I felt with
the infinite amount of sleep I had in the past two days. At least my ribs hurt
less.
Perfection…such
a terrible thing to wake up to. I stare at my trusty mirror and I find another
spot has nestled itself onto my forehead. Is this a sign of my still stuck in
pubescent years or is this a product of stress? Like cancer, if I knew the
cause, I would know the cure. Oh and what is this? A strand eyebrow out of
place? Oh the audacity! It has to go, there’s no room for wrongly grown
eyebrow.
*Sigh*
At time like these, Nicoletta is so correct. The perfectionist in us will eventually drive us mad one day. The millions spent on making sure each strand of hair is in place and each spot to leave no scar however tiny. Who ees going to kno dat you have A scar on youre forehed? Or if one hair on youre eyebrow is not growing right? She knows, because she’s just like me…
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