I was only slightly deformed at sunrise, but being home sick with nothing better to do than poke at my chin with straight pin I'm all set to join the traveling freak show -- which was my goal all along. If you can't pay your bills the old fashioned way; charge people obscene amounts of money to look at you and say "at least I'm not that person." But it turns out that freaks don't get paid -- just the asshole in the waistcoat. So I'm back to square 1 -- repulsive and penniless.
Why can't we choose to be one or the other? I can do repulsive -- I'm a writer. There's no reason that anyone aside from my friends and family should ever be forced to look at me. Just make me a SUCCESSFUL writer and I'll be cheerfully repulsive for the rest of my life.
It's much more challenging to be repulsive and penniless, because penniless people need jobs, and it's very difficult to drive to work with a paper bag over your head. I almost ran over a jogger -- some perfect, peppy lady out running at the butt-crack of dawn rubbing in how repulsive I am.
That's where the growth on my chin started. It's her, and every time I pass by a mirror she waves at me -- "Have a wonderful day." The bitch is irrepressible. I stabbed her with every needle in my junk drawer. I dowsed her with rubbing alcohol and salicylic acid, but she keeps coming back perkier and pinker than ever -- a personal greeter attached to my chin.
I know I get carried away with my ill-wishing on stupid people -- the sports-car douchebags, chatter boxes, my husband, Floridians ... But they are really stupid. Why is the universe taking it out on my face?
My nose and lips are twice their normal size. Even my fingers resemble sausages, because I've taken enough Tylenol to incapacitate a temperate liver.
I'm plenty miserable -- could you take away the zit, please?