So the Husband and I are going out tomorrow night.
A real date.
More to the point, we're going out with a couple that we haven't been in contact with for, oh, about 6 years.
Enter two zits on my upper lip.
Yes, God. I am trying to work on my pathetic anxieties about my personal appearance. It's not like I've got a lot to work with, here. Well. Actually I have way too much to deal with around my arse, hips and thighs and not nearly enough on the upper half of my body, but you know what I'm saying. With a 40th birthday looming, no....STALKING me, the wrinkles and basically everything sliding down my body at an alarming rate is really quite enough to keep me humble.
The zits were really not necessary.
And for the record, this is what happens when you're being neurotic in front of the mirror and have left the 14 year Boy in charge of things.
I filled up that sugar bowl yesterday.