Smiting

I was watching the show "House" on Tuesday night because "My Name is Earl" was a repeat. (What's up with all the repeats, anyway? Last time I checked, it's the middle of the damn season!) "House" was about a nun that had an allergy attack and got really sick and had to be hospitalized. One of the doctors said that God was testing her. She had a horrible skin rash that really creeped me out. In the end, she turned out to be fine, and then I went to bed.

Yesterday morning, however, I awoke to two large zits, albeit in non-conspicuous locations, they are zits, nonetheless. I thought that God was smiting me - and so close to Christmas! Why, God, why are you smiting me? I hate being smited (or is it "smote"?). I also hate zits, but thanks to my handy concealer and MAC concealer brush, they are now concealed. They are both on my jawline (probably from resting my chin on my hand - tsk, tsk - must stop that), so you can't really see them unless I tip my head up. Ha, so take that, God! Go smite someone without Clean n' Clear medicated concealer!