Coming clean

Lawn chair close-up

Ugh. I’m one big ball of toxic stress today. It’s like stress has invaded my body and is now oozing from my pores. I hate when I feel like this. I have a much tougher time solving problems and being proactive. I kind of get mired in the negativity. As my husband would say to me right now, “Shake it off!” I’m trying. I really am.

Off on a different tangent. I bought a box of those Biore strips the other day. I remember a few years ago when they first appeared on the shelves and all the ads influenced me to buy a pack. It was just like the girl in the commercial demonstrated — really icky, gross stuff would be stuck to the strip when you peeled it off your beak. I was so amazed that I ran out into the living room to show Scott.

I was enticed to buy them again the other day. Seemed like a fun little activity to engage in. Apply a strip. Wait for it to dry. Yank and de-gross my nose. So I was sadly disappointed when I peeled it off and found nothing, NOTHING, on the darn thing. Where was the excitement? Where was the, “EWWW!” There was just silence. And then it kinda dawned on me. That means there are no blackheads to flush from the recesses of my pores. That may very well mean that my complexion is in tip-top shape. Hmmm. There’s a weighty bit of info to ponder. Even though it did rob me of my thrill. And about $9.