Dangit, I always get wicked acne whenever I start a new job/post. It’s inevitable. It’s like my face anticipates the move and slowly builds up acne unseen on me even in my worst days of high school. Covertly, the pores gather their gunk and save it all up until my first day, when I will have no way to deal with them except grinning and bearing it, self-conscious, friendless, and displaced. My body’s own private joke. I’m starting to consider just throwing some glitter on my boils so they’ll at least be funny. A conversation starter! It’s hard to feel like an “authority figure” (I’m the one with the clipboard AND YOU WILL LISTEN TO EVERY GODDAMN WORD I HAVE TO SAY!) with pimples OR glitter on my face, really.
But it affects you in that I’ll probably be updating a little less now because the aforesaid new post is extra busy, which is the reason I was asked to be there. My superiors came down on me like hologram Leia triplets crying, “Help us, Stephanie. You’re our only hope.” AND WHO WAS I TO DENY THEM? As a result, my comfortable, schoolwork-and-etsy-conducive job has turned into actual work and I’m trying to decide if it’s worth the money. Wish me luck, you three valiant readers out there in the vast expanse of the internet. I’ll need it.