So, I told you about my apartment not being particularly nice, right? Yeah. I noticed last night that there is a hair painted into the outside of our bathroom door upstairs. I've lived here a few years and somehow never noticed it before. But I suppose most folks don't spend a lot of time staring at the outside of their bathroom door. Especially if they have 2 bathrooms. I stood there and stared at it for what was probably a strange amount of time, but I couldn't help myself. Whose hair was it? Was it the person painting? Was it someone else, a cleaner or something, who came through while the paint was still wet? What color had it been before being painted white?
I can't even begin to explain why I was so entranced by this stupid hair. Maybe I should have been grossed out by it or aggravated by the shoddy paint work... but I was just weirdly curious. Perhaps this says something about me. Perhaps, that I am so closely examining the fact that I examined the hair says even more.
Also, the bags under my eyes aren't as big as they used to be. I'm not sure when this happened. I just noticed it while looking at an old picture on FaceBook. It makes no sense, really, because I certainly don't sleep any better than I did before. And I don't think I'm considerably less stressed or any better hydrated. It just sort of happened. I suppose this is a good thing, but I don't find myself particularly excited about it. Probably because I still consider the rest of my face to be a bit of a train wreck. I suppose I could wear makeup... that might help. But it's just such a pain to deal with. And it's expensive. And I just feel like I shouldn't have to cover my face in order to be okay with it. Even if it's the way I feel. Thoughts?
This may just be the most bizarre and boring blog post in the history of history... but I'm supposed to write even when I feel I don't have anything to say...
So, yeah, my apologies. I'll try to be more interesting next time.