I have conjunctivitis
I got the freaking pink eye. Two of my kids had it a couple of weeks ago while visiting their dad, and now I have it. This is how I look:
Like a monster. But don't feel bad for me, because I have my cool new glasses. They disguise it rather well.
I'm probably going to have to throw away the only two cosmetic items I wear on a daily basis, which annoys me because I spent lots of money on them.
Well, six seventy-five for a black eyeliner is a lot to me.
I don't think I'm going to throw away my Bobbie Brown black eyeshadow (used for eyeliner before I shelled out six bucks for the pencil.) I can just scrape off the powder on top, I think. God, if you want me to throw away my Bobbie Brown eyeshadow, give me a sign, okay?
I don't hear anything. Do y'all?
I remember one time, when I was 14, I got some dirty eyeshadow (lavender -- it was the '80s) stuck in my eyes and it caused me to have temporary astigmatism so bad that I thought I was going blind. I fell on my knees in the Safeway and cried. I prayed in my mind: "God, please don't let me go blind. I'll do anything..."
Then I realized that I should probably pray to the Virgin Mary. I seemed to see her image blurring before me as I sobbed and begged her to let me see again.
It was my friend Dot, though. She calmed me down and helped me to the restroom, where I washed my face and miraculously recovered my vision.
I think that was when I stopped wearing all the different colors of eyeshadow every day, but I can't remember for sure.
The best part is that I don't mind going to work tomorrow. (I know -- super contagious -- gotta wash my hands constantly...) I don't care if people think I look grody. I care more about making my money and taking it home. I missed today and that's all I can afford to miss. Who cares what anyone thinks of the way I look?
As I drove home from the pharmacy, I noted a worker guy driving a tool-laden pick-up and looking at me. I blew him a kiss before I remembered that I looked like a spooky monster.
Then I laughed and drove the rest of the way home. It feels good not to care.