The reality of skin on the eve of work and the struggle to survive

Ah... I really wish it were a dream. The fact that in a few hours, I'll be hopping on the subway. Why do Sunday evenings go by so mercilessly? My mind is already racing towards Monday's commute, but in reality, it's still nighttime, and I can't even be bothered to dry my wet hair. I take a hard look in the mirror, and sure enough, my nose and the corners of my mouth are a mess, probably due to my weekend indulgence. Under the bathroom light, my skin's texture is a mess, and I know that if I pat myself on the cushion tomorrow morning, it'll be a disaster. I don't want to look like I've been through a drought at the meeting tomorrow morning, so I braved the hassle and pulled out a low-irritation peeling gel from deep within the bathroom shelf. In the past, I would have just gone to bed, exhausted, but I've been meticulously recording my skin's condition. I've noticed a stark difference between Monday nights when I exfoliate my face of unnecessary impurities and dead skin cells like this. Since I trust data, I absolutely have to do it today. Watching the dead skin cells fall off with a gentle scrub makes me wonder how wonderful it would be if my Monday blues were washed away too. The power of writing is truly amazing. It overcomes laziness and gets me moving. After gently scrubbing my face so as not to irritate it and adding a moisturizing pack, I feel like I'm starting to look somewhat more human. Now, I need to force myself into sleep mode for tomorrow. If you don't want to sigh at the sight of yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning, I recommend you go to the bathroom right now.