Moustache Mayhem

Last Wednesday morning was a frazzled one to say the least.

Since I had a first date that evening, I took extra care getting ready for work.

Everything was going fine until I opened my leggings drawer and realized I only had two clean pairs left- one with a tiny hole in the thigh and one with giant hearts on the knees.

Did I want to look like a hobo? Or an overeager creep?

I chose hobo.

I then fished for a black Sharpie in my desk drawer and artfully "filled in" the hole by drawing on my leg.

It wasn't perfect and it certainly wasn't classy, but it would have to do.

After a brief setback featuring a lost garage door opener, I was finally in my car and ready to get to work!

"Huh," I said, as I noticed something brown above my lip while looking in the rearview mirror. "That's strange. I haven't even eaten anything yet."

I rubbed at the spot.

Except it wasn't coming off.

Because guess what it was, bloggers?

"I HAVE A MOUSTACHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I shouted, my heart pounding and tears welling up in my eyes.

Was this my future? Was I going to be a bearded lady?

I leapt out of my car and bounded up the stairs to my bedroom where I desperately searched for a pair of tweezers.

I then sat in my driveway for ten minutes plucking and contemplating how this could have happened to me.

Oh, the agony.

I had multiple coworkers inspect my face with any other signs of a moustache in addition to redness from the tweezers. They all said it looked normal and fine.

But I am still keeping a close eye on the situation.

I don't need a side gig as "The Bearded Lady" anytime soon.