So Clinique discontinued superbalanced powder makeup. Talk about #thirdworldproblems but I cried.
And then I felt ridiculous.
It takes something like losing the perfect makeup to go through the cry–feel shame–pause–reflect cycle. It seems that I’ve established some sort of value system in which the pretty girls who care and try rank somewhere between zero and three, and the pretty girls who don’t care and don’t try get higher marks, but the creative, quirky, self-assured women over thirty who somewhat care and somewhat try get the highest marks.
Guess which category I’m in.
So did I also mention that I’m overweight and it seems to matter very little except when I hit the wall? And then it comes up again. It’s like fifty days out of fifty-one I am content and satisfied and comfortable living a (healthy, to me) lifestyle, armed with two solid fitness apps that keep me honest.
And then Day Fifty-One. And I’m figuratively at a 4-way stop and I look both ways, wake-up, and someone in a giant truck just plows into me out of nowhere. And I just cannot deal with the injustice in the world. And I feel punched in the face by the profitters out there who knew that superbalanced powder makeup was discontinued and decided to buy it all and sell it on ebay for $90 a pop. And suddenly I cannot deal that Dumbledore was somewhat sneaky and selfish. And that my daughter wants to wear a bikini and I’m uncomfortable seeing her boobs so she hates me. And that my husband is a guy and not a woman, and so he is fine. And that I can cry over the discontinuation of superbalanced power makeup, throwing me into a category to be even more despised: a woman who should give up and stop trying because the only thing working for her in the beauty department was just discontinued.
And then it’s all wrong…what’s for dinner, what I’m wearing, and what I’m (not) doing with my life.