I Have A Habit...

I pick and pull at my curly lashes. I pick and pull; and I pick and pull; and I pick and pull. I pick so much that I fall asleep picking and pulling. I then awaken at some obscene hour in the morning to find that my eyes feel funny. I go to the bathroom mirror and lift my eyelids to find tiny bumps have formed on my eyelids from too much picking and pulling. Some people bite their nails. I pick at my lashes. And it starts off simply; the natural curl of my lashes find themselves turning inward to my eyeball--irritating them, and some of the other curly ones clump together. Man, this drives me crazy. And so I pick. And I pull. While I pick and pull, I go into a zone. At times I've looked down at my pillow to find a dozen or more lashes that I've pulled out. Lashes. There's an art to my picking and pulling. If it's done correctly, I can straighten them out by placing drops of water on the lashes and then manipulating them slightly to get the curls to straighten out and go in the proper direction. But once anything even grazes them (like some big ass toy that Sir throws in my face) then I must start the straightening process all over again. People always comment how Sir has such long and curly lashes. I laugh at them. Mine may not be long like his, but they are as curly and there's nothing cute about it. Once those curls turn the wrong way or get clumped together, it's nothing but hell. And this picking and pulling can go on for a full day. And guess what? Right now...I'm picking and pulling. Trying to force myself to stop before those uncomely/irritating bumps form. Picking and pulling. Here's two thumbs down to curly lashes.