...mirror, mirror on the wall, who the f***k is that?

Brief note to anyone who has even the slightest self-image/body-image issues: Never, ever (even if triple-dog-dared) gaze into one of these. Just trust me on this one. If I had been asked to describe my looks at 9:30 this morning (just before the devil box arrived at my workplace), I would have said that although I’m not being hunted down by Ford Agency or anything, I’m not altogether unattractive. Now? At 3:30? I have yet to be able to stop sobbing.

I’m going home. Where’s my bag? (for my head).