Every winter, every single goddamned winter, I turn the colour of…. well, the dead comes to mind, but to be a little more flattering, I’d have to say wallpaper paste. Or a sick person… who’s been chained to a gurney in a basement, 3000 meters below ground and whose skin has not been exposed to the light of day in a good three years and who steadfastly avoids vegetables, meat, and really anything and everything of nutritional value. That’s me. Only lucky me, I don’t have to go through the painful process in order to achieve the end result. I come by it au naturale. Plus I’m anemic, no matter how hard I try not to be. I assure you, the end result is not pretty.
Could self-tanning possibly the answer? Tanning salons? The risk of skin-cancer in exchange for one winter ONE WINTER during which I don’t have to assure everyone who sees me that no, I’m not sick nor have I been diagnosed with a terminal illness, nor am I avoiding food in hopes of maintaining my weight, NOR do I not exercise?
I don’t know. But I take comfort in the fact that since there’s a cartoon about it, I’m obviously not alone.