A Day in the Life of Conventionalism

Conventionally beautiful.
Wake up two hours early.
Get in the shower,
shave your legs,
exfoliate.
Wash your face,
use a lip scrub,
brush your teeth.
Pick either a
top and bottom that reveals just enough,
or a dress with shoes that kill.
Moisturize your face.
Put on makeup.
Primer,
concealer,
foundation,
eye shadow (three or more shades),
eyeliner,
false eyelashes,
mascara,
fill in your eyebrows,
lipstick.
Use body lotion.
Skip breakfast ("There's no time").
Go to work,
school,
the mall.
Patiently count down the hours
until you can go home.
Eat lunch:
an apple,
almonds,
and a chicken wrap.
Come home.
Take off your pinchy shoes.
Take off your bra.
Use several makeup wipes to remove
your clean artwork.
Get into pajamas.
Put on your favourite comedy show.
Peel off unwanted nail polish
without being aware of it.
Order a large pizza
with breadsticks.
Eat half of the pizza,
and three of the breadsticks
in your bed.
Laugh out loud at the show.
Look at the time.
Brush your teeth.
Use the bathroom.
Go to sleep.
Feel complacent.
Feel exhausted.
Feel recharged.
Feel conventionally beautiful.
Repeat.