This is something I contemplate every couple weeks when I have zit.
Nothing good happens on days I have a zit because I can’t think about anything except for the fact that I have a large protrusion on my face.
If someone talks to me I think: Is this person talking to me or are they talking to my zit?
Sometimes I put concealer on it, but I know it’s there silently waiting for me to innocently rub my face and smudge the concealer so it can glare freely again.
People in England say “spots.” I have a spot. I hate today.