“Umm…well…no. I was 19 yesterday.”
“Really? You look like you’re well into your 20’s.”
“Gee…thanks.” (You complete and utter k-nob head.)
Now I feel like an old fucking crow because of some moron trying to sell Sky to me through my living room window.
Nah, not really. I actually feel really good and KNOW that he was a moron so he can’ really help being so moronic. (And my mum will not allow my dad to have Sky in the house so he was even more of a moron for approaching the house.)
But anyway, in the great half hearted effort I’m making to “love” myself again, I’ve decided on a few things.
For one, I will be moisturising twice daily with Palmer’s beautiful Cocoa Butter.
Second, I will never ever let a carpet grow on my legs again, regardless of mood or inclination. I do not want to be mistaken for anyone’s in-front-of-the-fire shagpile. Ever.
Third, I’m going to start growing my nails (again) and have begun my drowning what’s left of them in clear, strengthening nail varnish. No more nibbling Emma.
Fourth. To prevent myself looking like a panda constantly I will remove ALL makeup, every, single, little, day even if I can’t be bothered to wrestle for an hour with the stubborn substances of Urban Decay.
Whatever else I need to do to prevent the rot setting in I will do, I’m just too busy shivering in my shorts (that are worn for sensible moisturising purposes), to think of anything else.
Also, when I forget/can’t be arsed to do any of this, you can attempt to kick me up the arse but don’t be too disheartening if I don’t get back on this self-loving horse of mine, I give up on my ideas very easily (although shaved legs are a must for next weeks surgery, even if it’s nothing to do with my legs).
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: Love, Plans, Self Acceptance
I often make myself similar promises but sadly mood and other demands get in the way nice to take some time for pampering though you deserve it. x
Good luck with the plan! I know how it feels efforty though…
I could never kick you up the arse for this as I am bad at all of the things on your list.
You have years yet… wrinkles don’t come till your 25!
Maybe he meant it as a compliment – “Why, you look too sophisticated and poised to be a teenager!”
I like Lidl’s body butter. It’s lighter than Palmer’s, a good bit cheaper, and comes in a cute jar with clasps. I might slosh some on now.
I haven’t shaved my legs (or elsewhere) for MONTHS. I must look a fright (if anyone actually got to see.) I just really, really can’t be bothered. What’s the secret, Em? Is it love?
I’ve done that and soon after I can’t be arsed and don’t care about anything so fixing the carpet on my legs and the afro on my head are way down in my priority list. Way under “having hour long arguments with myself” and “try to stay awake”. If I add more ammunition for my brain to torture myself with later… well it’s not good.
So I’ve resorted to a low maintenance plan. I have a haircut that doesn’t require much effort to make it look decent and I stay away from make up. But then again with or without depression I’ve always been kind of a tomboy. And without the skirts and heels and hairdo and make up, I get the opposite than you and nobody will believe I’m 23 now because to them I look like a teenager.
Jesus. I have not shaved my legs in, oh, I don’t know. Five months? I have Palmer’s Cocoa Butter in every room of the house and have not rubbed it into my massively stretch marked stomach in, oh, a week or so. My nails are super short because otherwise I get cream stuck in them when I rub it on baby butt.
You are the more beautiful and motivated me, I think.