A play in one act:
Ed, after delivering me a cookie (because my project document reached 100 pages and I thought I deserved one): You’ve got some make up under your eye there.
Me: *rubbing face under eye*
Ed: Nope, still there *pokes me in the face where my makeup has strayed outside the lines*
Me: *rubbing harder* ow .. maybe I’ll just go look in the mirror.
Ed: OK!
Me: *looks in mirror* *laughs wildly* *makes reference to Oscar Wilde book*
.. yeah, it wasn’t smeared makeup under my eye – they were deep, dark circles accompanied by a fine set of luggage. My “look 30 until I’m 60” Asian Card must have gone through the wash or something, because I am kind of haggard this morning. Stop looking at my portrait, people. It’s where all my sins and misdeeds go, and by exposing the picture to the light you’re aging me needlessly and I DO NOT CARE FOR IT.
I may need some sleep and several gallons of water.
It was makeup, it was a small smudge exactly the colour 🙅