Just call me "Casper"

I usually sleepwalk through my morning ritual of getting ready for work. I pick out my clothes the night before (usually) so all I have to do in the morning is stumble out of bed, get dressed, brush teeth, and head out the door. My system works well; I get ready quickly, everything matches, is clean, unwrinkled, and fairly nice-looking. Today, however, my system failed. Yes, I have one of my better-looking work outfits on. I even have new, nerdy, editor-y glasses. What my blurry eyes did NOT see in the mirror this morning is the giant WELT on my neck. I apparently live with a vampire. Which I don't mind (quite the contrary, really), but the marks usually aren't that... dark? visible? glaring from the opening of my collar? Either way, I didn't understand my coworker's horrified look until I went to the restroom and saw it. But I thought of a solution! While on my lunch break, I went to the drug store and bought emergency concealer and powder. As usual, I got the lightest shade I could find: Ivory. You know, the last color you can get on the pale end of the spectrum only because they don't sell "Corpse."

It was too dark. Not just a smidge too dark, but noticeably an entirely different color than my neck. Judging by this, I must make Snow White look like a California beach volleyball player.

At least Snow White lived in an undisclosed forest in a Europe-like region. A place where they saw snow, or else she's have been Cloud White or something. I live in Miami. The place that celebrates a groundhog seeing its shadow because it means six more weeks of tourist booms.

I am definitely the worst Floridian ever.