Surprise! Girls Are Secretly Hideous.

Disaster can strike at any time. For instance, on a typical morning, I crawl out of bed like a swamp thing and and somehow blollop my way into the office. I usually look something like this:

Imagine looking out the window and seeing that right in front of you, breathing onto the glass. Yikes. It's really a miracle I haven't been staked by one of my co-workers and buried in an unholy grave in the parking lot. Somehow, though, I always manage to trudge to the bathroom and put on makeup. I'm still half asleep and the florescent lighting is unforgiving, but I feel better about myself and it's become an important ritual in my day. Without my makeup, I'm an ogre. With my makeup, I look like this:

I call it stoned & sunburned hooker chic. It’s sweeping the nation, s&s h at a store near you, and it’s way better than looking like a zombie. However, one morning, I forgot my makeup. Cue the horror music.

Yes. One morning I slithered into the office bathroom, and rummaged my purse for my makeup bag. Nothing. Panic set in. There was no way I was going an entire day without blush. Much like Quasimodo, I decided to make the bathroom stall my new home and haunt it for an eternity of ugliness.

However, as the minutes passed, I begin to feel the painful longings that other monsters (like Frankenstein) have felt, in the depths of their hideous loneliness. I longed for the companionship of my facebook, and the warmth of the hot coffee on my desk. I could stand it no longer. I must venture into the world, and try to fix my debased condition. Suddenly, I had a brilliant plan. There was another girl in the office, and SHE MIGHT HAVE BLUSH. I bagged my face and ran to her office.

And that's how I ended up with a permanent makeup stash in the office bathroom. The end.

Written by Maggie Smith