Dear Face

I know you and me go way back. We've been together a long time. Some days you're tired, some days you're dry and some days very wrinkly, but I always like having you around. We go together like bread and butter, kitty and litter, cake and my mouth. We've had times of clarity, times of breakouts... but you always seem to come around eventually.

This thing that you've brought home... it's unsightly. I'm upset. I don't like it one bit. I know you always call this thing when I have a fever, but I just don't understand why. Is it because you feel ignored? Mistreated? You know when you call this thing, it sticks around for weeks. We both try to get rid of it, but to no avail. It takes no comfort that we offer. It ignores us like we don't matter, even though we are the one providing it a home.

And what's up with where it decided to camp out? It's never camped out there before? And why does it wait to be at its worst when I have to go back to work tonight? Tell me, face, what's up with that? I'd rather you had called your friends pimples or blackheads. At least I can kick them out when they have overstayed their visit. Not this guy. No... this guy will overstay his visit and offend my friends, family and co-workers, all the while irritating me.

So I'm not real happy with you, face. Not one bit.