Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.

So, My Guy and I bought a house this time last year … a 4-bedroom, 2-bath, 2-story house.

The house was a foreclosure. We got a hella deal. We work on the house every weekend. We still don’t have use of the second story. That means we only have 1 bathroom.

Now, kudos to me for mentioning this when the county assessor guy stopped by a few weeks ago. Guess whose tax bill dropped by $700?

But not-so-awesome is the fact that our 1 bathroom has not-so-hot lighting. And the mirror is really high, so I have to stand on my tip-toes to get a good look at my sorry face.

I’ve never thought much about it … until the other day when I was in my car. I had something in my eye, so I pulled the visor down and took advantage of the lighted mirror. What I saw was terrifying.

I had eyebrows everywhere. I looked like a yeti.

So, that night, I girded my loins and got out my tweezers. But when I looked at my face in the bathroom mirror, I saw none of the offending yeti brows.

You know what had to be done.

I put the tweezers in my car. But with the sun glaring into my car, I still couldn’t quite discern all the rebel brows. Now, you could argue that if I can’t see them, they aren’t exactly visible. But it’s the principle of the thing.

I had no choice but to tweeze my brows in my car, someplace dark with no glare. Someplace like … the parking garage at Corporate Behemoth.

Yes. I tweezed my eyebrows in my car in the garage at work. While I was gettin’ it done, I thought about how wrong it would be to be known as the woman who tweezes in the garage. But frankly? I don’t give a shit.

This is perhaps a statement both on the condition of my brows and my burned-out brain.

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