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I had a facial today. One that I should have had like three weeks ago, but due to ladidahs that required my fervent attention - I've had to put my facial aside, with the obviously unwanted consequence being my spots which only sought to get worse by the day. So last night I've had it, and despite those last minute misgivings I made myself go. And let me tell you I went only to be tortured and bled open by the people working on my face.
I should have taken a picture. Then you'd know how painful it was.
You should know that I wasn't always like this, and no, no, that's not me being in denial. It started some five months ago - give or take a little more, where after a visit to my mother's acupuncture doctor, I was convinced I should dispatch with the facials forevermore. Why? Because said acupuncture managed to convey in such a believable way that what was wrong with me, when it comes down to it, was not my face - he said my skin was perfectly fine, but because I have indigestion problems. And so long as that hasn't healed, I can't hope to ever have the perfect face.
So I believed him. And did without my usual pills and night creams and whatnot.
Did it work?
Absolutely NOT!
So as of two months ago, I started visiting my dermatologist again, and had to start over from scratch to fix my face.
Today the lady doing my facial reminded me quite pointedly to come back next week - which I will make a date of in my agenda. I hope four weeks from now, I'll be able to post a happier update on my progress, which, hopefully by any luck won't have the same dire prognosis as my ever lasting stagnant thesis.
CHEERIO!!
