With an overwhelming feeling of urgency, I accelerated towards the washroom, driven by the desire to enhance my outward appearance to at least a modest degree. My reflection caught my attention. My sleep-deprived state was apparent in my disheveled appearance, with my unruly dark hair and the presence of weary, dark shadows beneath my eyes. My skin resembled an arid desert. It was embarrassing to see myself in such a mess. As I sprayed cold water on my face, the mascara dripped down my cleavage and soiled the top of my ivory dress.
Once I thoroughly removed every trace of makeup from my face and delicately brushed my hair, I elegantly gathered them together, fashioning a sleek and secure ponytail. My exposed collarbones and shoulders were prominently on display. I rummaged through the medicine cabinet for mouthwash to help remove the rotten stink of alcohol emanating from my breath, and I applied a substantial amount of lotion all over my olive-colored skin.
