I absolutly loathe myself today.
I am in such a place of annoyance that I can't even muster up a decent explanation of self-hatred. Let's start with the fact that for several days I keep waking up to tiny, evil, flaky, red bumps who are clearly on a mission to destroy my mouth. I have thrown out my usual makeup, I have chunked my chapsticks, I have started actually drinking water, my pillows have been washed, and to my cat's displeasure-- so was she. I should be safe. I should be confident as I leave my house, and I shouldn't be honestly considering holing up until the offensive rash has decided to part...But here I am with a towel over my face and the sudden bewilderment that perhaps maybe, this rash was given to me for a purpose. Do I care more about my outisides than my insides?
And once again, He comes down to my level to bring me up to his.
