Today I'm grateful
I can admit I have a problem.

This morning I had a few epiphanies – first, I don’t have any idea how to spell epiphanies and second, I’m a hoarder. I don’t collect SkyMall catalogues, empty milk jugs, mite infested bedding (under which you’d find a rotting cat carcass or two) I collect something much more disgusting and unhealthy -- make-up. Just like people who get trapped for days under their garage sale rejects, it’s time for me and my bathroom drawers to admit we have a problem.

Dairy products, bad relationships and make-up all have expiration dates. According to research, most make-up bags have items that are at least four years out of date. Which begs the question, how could my favorite snow cone pink lipstick from high school be bad when it looks so innocent? Turns out make-up is a breeding ground for bacteria that causes irritation or even infection. Now for the part that’s going to make you throw out those Wet ‘n Wild eye shadows you were saving for Halloween (just in case you ever decided to dress up like one of the Go-Go’s). Old cosmetics are a hotbed for micro-organisms that cause herpes, conjunctivitis, ringworm and impetigo, an infectious disease that results in blisters. (That crunching sound is my snow cone pink lipstick in the trash compactor.)

Here are some guidelines for my fellow cosmetic hoarders to follow:

Mascara 4-6 months

Eye shadow 18-24 months

Lipstick/lip gloss 12 months

Eyeliner 18 months

I’m grateful I can admit I have a problem, but I still need an intervention. I can’t quite muster up the courage to toss my $58.00 Dior eye shadow I bought last summer. If there’s a five second rule for cookies, can’t there be a 5-year rule for Chanel lipsticks? Tonight I’ll have my friends gather at my house and they can throw out my make-up while I sit in the corner, crying -- my expired $28.00 Givenchy mascara streaming down my cheeks.

That’s why I’m grateful I can admit I have a problem.




Forget about rainbows and unicorns, I’m grateful for double martinis, single men and pretty much anything covered in chocolate or cheese. This gratitude journal is anonymous because the stuff that tends to fall out of my head and land on the page makes HR departments cringe -- and guys lose my number.
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