I stood them up. Again. Bridge club. My one thing, the only thing that’s just *mine* after a whole week of… everything else. Mom calling me a dozen times about her meds, picking up the grandkids from school because my daughter’s “swamped” with her new job (which, okay, fair, but still). I get to Thursday and I’m just bone-tired, you know? But bridge, that’s my escape. My friends, a little gossip, some decent snacks. And I just… couldn’t go. It’s dumb. It’s so dumb. But I woke up this morning and there it was. A new one. Right under my eye. Not just a little line, you know? This was a *canyon*. Or felt like it. I spent like an hour trying to cover it with makeup, all the stuff my daughter bought me for Christmas she said was "good for mature skin." Nothing. It just sat there, screaming at me. And I kept thinking, what if they see it? What if Helen, who always looks so put together, just gives me that look? That one she does when she’s pitying someone. Like, “Oh, poor Carol, she’s really letting herself go.” I can just hear it, not even out loud, just in my head. So I texted them I had a "family emergency." Which, honestly, isn't even a lie, not really. My face feels like an emergency. I just sat here instead, watching some terrible daytime TV, feeling like a total idiot. My phone's probably blowing up with texts, wondering what "emergency" could be worse than my weekly commitment. Probably think Mom fell or something. But I just couldn’t. Couldn’t face them. Couldn't let them see it. My skin, my stupid old skin, is just… done. And now I'm here, feeling even worse, cause I missed bridge *and* I'm still ugly. God. This is what my life is now? Worrying about a wrinkle? What the hell.