The Wal-Mart Beauty Box has declared me old and uncool. I need to sit at home and nurse my dry, aging skin with serums and creams to combat all my wrinkles. The women slightly younger than me get to do it in lipstick, but I am too ancient for color on my lips. It would probably just feather out anyway into all those fine lines. I can take makeup off with the makeup remover cloths they sent because clearly I have to use so much spackle to hold my crumbling visage together that I need to be extra gentle when taking it off. Thank goodness I can perfect my skin's tone with the included Olay product since all those age spots are so unflattering.
I can also use the shampoo foil packets they've provided for my color treated hair because there is no way I could go in public with all the grey showing. Thanks for reminding me I also need to address the volume situation since my hair is getting so thin in my twilight years - not to be confused with my Twilight years because I definitely can't enjoy young adult novels anymore. My eyesight is too bad for that since I'm so very aged.
They've sent along items for that crepey, papery skin on the rest of my body as well. They were sure to put some cocoa butter in there too because all old women have stretch marks. We've spread out from being on the planet for so many years. SO many years....
The one thing they didn't think through was the foil packet situation. Clearly I no longer have the dexterity to open these. I may have had it once, many moons ago when I was young and my lips were slick with gloss. Back then I was able to scent my wrists with perfumes like the other pretty girls. Clearly old bats like me don't want to smell nice and haven't been dying to try the newest Flower beauty fragrance. Only young beautiful girls would want that. I can content myself to the scent of night creams and muscle rub for my poor aching bones.
I guess I should make the most of my beauty box with the time I have left. I just wish that this month the $5 shipping fee didn't bring me an overwhelming reminder of how I'm spending it desperately clutching on to the glittery bygone days of my youth. I'm going to go drown my sorrows in a glass of wine that I've been able to drink legally for longer than many of the Instagram beauties have been alive.