Acne cow

Severely depressed by the state of my acne this morning. It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how carefully I use my supposedly top-of-the-line miracle-working Proactiv, a pizza face I am and a pizza face I seem to ever remain. I know, I know, I'm shallow and with no sense of perspective. People with real problems I'm sure are simply falling all over themselves with sympathy for me. *eye roll.* Even my mother, my gorgeous, practically perfect mother, who was a size two well into her fifties, all her life had but one real flaw in her appearence and it was epically bad skin. Guess I inherited more than just pleasant features from her. Also, count your blessings, Phoebe, you ungrateful cow-- isn't it enough to be pretty and thin, you need to have perfect skin too?

Now I'm kind of disgusted with myself. I still fucking hate my acne, though. I'm vain, shallow, and encrusted with boils. Feeling great about myself now.