The itchy

Regular readers of this blog might recall that one of my biggest skin problems is excessive dryness. Yes, in a cruel twist of fate, I have really dry skin combined with acne problems. The dryness usually reaches its peak desert conditions in winter. This year is no different. Right on cue, along with the winter solstice, my face has turned into something that resembles a lunar landscape: dusty, cratered, and mostly dry (I would guess that the tiny amount of moisture recently found on the moon is relatively close to the amount currently found in my skin).

The problem was evident as soon as I woke up this morning. I had been scratching in my sleep and there was a slight streak of blood on my otherwise white pillowcase.

I immediately knew what the problem was.

It didn’t take long before I had gone through my medicine cabinet. Finding it empty, I tore through the house while trying to resist the temptation to scratch. I had to accept that there wasn’t a drop of non-comedogenic moisturizer in the house. There was a brief moment when I stared down a bottle of regular moisturizer and thought about using it. I imagine that dehydrated seamen have a similar feeling looking out over the salty ocean. I knew that using the regular moisturizer would lead to bigger problems, but it would the immediate, more pressing one.

Instead of giving in, I headed out to a pharmacy and picked up some good oil-free moisturizer. If only sailors had such a simple solution.

I slathered a bit on my cheeks right there in the car, didn’t even bother going home. The cream burned my skin upon contact. Yeah, it kind of hurt, but it was doing something good. Now I have my fingers crossed that I don’t wake up tomorrow with another streaked pillowcase.

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