Tonight, as I was getting ready for bed, I removed my makeup as usual and then slapped some toner on my face. "Why, this toner is particularly fresh and zingy tonight!" thought I. "In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d think it was almost burning the skin right off my face, haha!"
But it was burning the skin right off my face. Because it wasn’t toner, was it? No, it was freaking nail polish remover. Nail. Polish. Remover. If I had a brain cell, it would be an orphan.
In better news, when I went to Boots the Chemist to buy my Refine & Rewind serum today, the lady at the counter didn’t want to sell it to me because she said it was too intense for my "age group". When I asked her what she thought my age group might be, exactly, she reckoned I must be about 18. God, I love that woman. (Also: Boots the Chemist, if you’d like me to be the poster child for the Refine & Rewind serum call me! If you want me to be the poster child for facial toners, though, maybe don’t bother, hey?)