Are We Sixteen Again?

This morning I feel like the girl trying to hide the hickie on her neck from her parents. Only now I'm 25 and my parents are in the form of  my boss.

My husband, ever the comedian, said to me late last night around midnight. "You might want to put some cover up on your neck." To which I replied "What, I don't have cover up." Which may or may not have been followed with a long rant about how I work in an office and I'm a professional and I can't very well have hickies on my neck, ahem. So this morning all I can think about is how for the remainder of the week I'll be walking around feeling like a Jezebel with this gross thing glaring off my neck, nice.

Did I mention I had planned to renew my driver's license today? That won't be happening now.