In the past I’ve mentioned that I’m a bit on the hirsute side. It’s something I battle with, despite knowing that ultimately I will lose the war.
But since I’ve got an election on Sunday where I’ve got to look as good and professional as possible, I’ve decided to get my facial hair waxed on Saturday. Which means I’ve been letting that hair grow out for almost two weeks. And it’s driving me completely nuts.
I hate it. I hate it so much. I’m positive that small children are fleeing at the sight of me and animals are looking at me askance, whispering amongst themselves, “Girl needs a weed-whacker.” Even furries are thinking I have a hell of a costume.
Okay, maybe it’s not that bad, but coupled with the fact that my face has decided it’s time to break out in red neon blemishes, well, let’s just say I’m not feeling at my most attractive right now. Thank heavens HSTeacher hasn’t seemed to notice. Or, if he has, he doesn’t care a whit. ‘Cause the thought of having my boyfriend avoiding me until I’m somewhat less Sasquatch-y doens’t thrill me a heck of a lot.
Ooh, I can’t wait until Saturday…