The Crease

When I was about 12, which was last week, I remember watching the Oil of Olay commercials and thinking... That's for old ladies.

And now I have the crease. Yep. The parentesis in the dead center of my forehead. The one that comes screaming off my face when I look at someone like they are crazy. And now that I am registering patients at work, I find I am using that look more frequently.

Regardless... I'm the old lady. I'm the old bag that is suddenly quite interested in Oil of Olay commercials. The one that was greatly disappointed when I found the Garnier Nutrisse "bags under the eyes" roller ball cream, out of stock. Now that I am keenly aware of my "you're nuts" look, and know that it is cutting that crease deeper into my face, I'm trying to avoid doing it.

Directly related to this new set of wrinkles, is my job. Working the front desk brings a whole new perspective. I think it's the fear of our "gear" in the back that keeps patients strangeness at bay. But the front desk... the gals that work up there, see it all. One gal who shall be called "J" is constantly getting her face ripped off by patients. So much so that it has become a well known joke. The gals up there have become quite witty (as you've seen in my Laura post), and deal with these people well. I just hope that amongst all these wrinkles, I get that wittiness too. Unfortunately my "chop busting" as Den calls it, will actually get me fired. So I just keep my mouth shut, smile on, and crease firmly planted in my forehead.