So here we are at the second edition of True Confession Tuesday, in which I reveal a deep, dark secret about myself that may or may not make you throw up in your mouth a little bit. Today? That might happen for those of you with queasy tendencies. What could it possibly be, you may ask?
Picking zits is therapeutic for me.
My husband swears that I should've been a dermatologist, but I don't just pick anyone's zits, and I don't actually pick my own. My husband is usually the victim. I even bought one of these, which greatly aids in the picking process:Rest assured, I wash my hands and use hot water and all that. My husband is the perfect specimen and his back is the perfect canvas. This isn't by any means an everyday occurrence, but it happens more when I'm stressed out for some reason. The process is soothing to me. I know I'm not alone in this; I used to work with a couple of girls that were the same way...only one of them tried to recruit her daughters to pick hers. I draw the line at that--I won't ask M to partake in this when she gets older.
And for those of you who think this is disgusting? My husband's college roommate used to pick at something way, WAY more repulsive than this. I mean, when he told me about it, it totally turned my stomach. It's so gross I can't even type it.
So feel free to leave your opinion - pick or no pick? Too gross for you, or are you a little intrigued?
Play along, if you're so inclined!