Oh, my eye!

Every morning I get up and put my warpaint on. That's makeup to you regular folks. I try to work really hard on my eyes since they're the window to my soul but it never seems to go as planned. I guess I'm shakier that Mr. Chicken when he saw the ghost.
Here's the before picture:

Nothing special...just usual morning blurriness. Hmmmmm, I think my eyes need a little perking up. Those lashes look pretty sparse and there's nothing to bring out the color of my eyes. Here's what I hope my eyes look like once I artfully and skillfully apply some cosmetics:

Looks decent, right? Yeah, in my dreams! Even with false eyelashes, mine still look puny. Look at how pretty and white my eyes are in my dream eye picture; they're so bright. Then reality comes crashing down on me and I have to look in the mirror and see what I actually came out looking like:

Mascara has splotched all over the place, including in my eyes. In an attempt to mop up all of the dots I manage to smear everything. Mascara boogers form in the corners of my eye and it's all red and irritated because the Q-tip that I used to clean up with has left fibers and it's really irritating. The bags underneath my lovely eyes are semi-covered up thanks to highlighting cream. Only now, I look like a raccoon because the highlighter is too light and I can't seem to ever blend it properly. You'd think that since I work for a cosmetics company, I'd be really good at putting my best face forward...yeah, think again.

The biggest pisser is that I can spend 30 minutes trying to decorate my peepers and they come out looking like I belong in a fun house. But when I'm running late and I slap on everything so fast, I've hardly looked they come out looking lots better. What's up wid dat????? Oh well, I'm a lost cause I guess. Just know that when you're looking into the window of my soul, there's not a freckled, smudged, Satan red person inside - it's just friendly old me. No Satan...just satin panties.