Plasma

I love popping zits.

I do not pop zits at anywhere but home, unless they become so huge that NOT popping them would do more harm than good (e.g. scaring co-workers as they walk pass my cube in horror at the workplace). Today, sitting in our usual client conference call, I was checking on a zit that formed two days ago. I just rubbed my index finger on the darn thing to see if it was ready to explode or if it should be left alone. When I had checked this morning, it was the same size as the night before...small and just red.

The darn thing exploded. I don't believe any of my co-workers saw the explosion, I don't believe they did because if they had, a harsh gasp would have eminated from all three of them as they scurry to the door.

There is no tissue to be found in the conference room. Dang! I had to use my hand. Oh my gosh! All the blood! So much blood! It was as if the zit had a bloody nose! I guess it was ready to pop. I spent the next five minutes in the ladies room assessing the damage and what I could do to make it stop. 4 tissues did the trick.

I'm the only 33 year old I know who still gets zits on a regular basis. Dang!