Ever had one of those mornings where your alarm is basically a liar? Like, I’m convinced it sometimes skips a few rings just to mess with us. Anyway, I found myself staring at the clock with horror this morning—only 10 minutes to get my face work-ready! I mean, priorities, right?
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So, I dart over to my little vanity, which honestly, is more like a battlefield of random brushes, half-empty foundation bottles, and a mascara wand that nearly poked my eye out the other day. My mission: transform the tired, half-awake face into something that says “I’m totally awake and ready to conquer today’s spreadsheet hell.” Spoiler: I thought it was impossible too.
(Side note: Why does makeup always look perfect on Instagram and like abstract art—rough draft version—in my mirror?) So, I slapped on some BB cream. And by ‘slapped,’ I mean a two-second smear with my fingers. Classy. Hit the blush next. Because no one wants to look like they’ve just been defrosted from the Arctic.
Quickly moved to eyes. A genius once said eyes are the windows to the sou—bah, who cares. They’re windows that need curtains. Fast swipe of mascara, woohoo! Progress. Then a bit of tightlining. There I was, holding my breath, praying I wouldn’t miss the bus because of my eyeliner and end up on some ridiculous make-up meme.
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Lips were last. I grabbed whatever I found—which turned out to be half-melted lip balm but it had a tint and at this point, I was nearly done. Peachy nude, in case you wondered (no one did, I know).
But seriously, who can function without coffee post-facial reconstruction? Not me. But here’s the kicker, all of this madness took exactly ten minutes. Impressive, or just sad? Not sure.
Anyway, someone’s gotta invent a makeup autobot. Click this random list of job aids and nonsense. Maybe it’s there, maybe not. My alert level feels maxed—time for caffeine.