Olive My Face.

Hello. Yes. January was about three months long. Getting up at 6AM to drive cars in the dark and then spending 45 sodding minutes getting from the garage to teach for three hours, and then 45 mins to get back to driving the cars back to their homes and going back to teach was grueling. I’m happy with the garage, but the location licks donkey dongs. I almost quit car jockeying and might still, although, as I told my dad, it’s not a decision to make at 6:30AM when you’re shivering in the rainy predawn blackness at a bus stop. I’ll wait until I’ve had at least a month of getting up and putting on a tank top and going out in the sun.

Somewhere in the second week of Interminable January, I looked at my face at 6:45 PM when I came in from work and thought, “Christ, I look haggard.” Leeched of colour, my face was starting to develop wrinkles at an alarming rate. I could attribute the defeated look to exhaustion, but what’s with the face? All of a sudden I’m 50? I knew I had laugh lines, but what’s with the crepey stuff under the eyes?

I marched into Shoppers Drug Mart the next Saturday, intent on purchasing a miracle, and left empty-handed. I wasn’t going to choose between going to Paris and face cream. Fricking forty dollars for skin cream? Nope. I can’t pronounce half those ingredients, either. Plus, what the hell is alcohol stearate? But olive oil has been good on my dry scalp. Hmm.

I’ve been moisturizing my face with olive oil for about two weeks now, and I really do think it’s made a difference. I no longer look 50. Heck, I don’t even think I look 38 right now. The lines and wrinkles around my eyes are softer. My skin feels softer in general. All I do is pat a few drops of extra virgin olive oil around my eyes and then the rest of my face after I’ve washed it in the morning.

I’m interested to see how this goes. I may yet find a way to compete with E’s naturally great skin.

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