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On Monday, before I went canoeing with my brother, I slathered myself in sunblock... except, as I realized after gooping up one arm, a shoulder, my decolletage, both ears, and my face, the white tube I'd thrown into my duffel on Saturday morning was not the dermatologist-recommended non-comedogenic hypoallergenic SPF 45 sunblock, but rather the thin-but-extra-strong moisturizer.
Ooops.
Unsurprisingly, my face has been really oily for the past few days. I've dug out the schmancy cleanser that I put away months ago because it was too drying, which has helped enough that the painful incipient pimples are quietly fading away instead of coming out in throbbing luminescent glory. Yet I still feel slimy, despite having done the full cleanser-exfoliant-astringent routine last night. And my nose leaves a shiny smudge on the cover of my insulated mug. Which, okay, usually happens, either because it happens to everyone or because my nose is somewhat pointy, but today, because I feel scuzzy, it's bothering me. And the smudge is especially shiny.
Ooops.
Unsurprisingly, my face has been really oily for the past few days. I've dug out the schmancy cleanser that I put away months ago because it was too drying, which has helped enough that the painful incipient pimples are quietly fading away instead of coming out in throbbing luminescent glory. Yet I still feel slimy, despite having done the full cleanser-exfoliant-astringent routine last night. And my nose leaves a shiny smudge on the cover of my insulated mug. Which, okay, usually happens, either because it happens to everyone or because my nose is somewhat pointy, but today, because I feel scuzzy, it's bothering me. And the smudge is especially shiny.
