I have a small, sore pimple on my right cheek just a little below my eye. The temptation to squeeze it is almost overwhelming. I feel it with my fingers; it seems as large as an orange. However when I look in the mirror it's just a red spot. Conspicuous, yes, but scarcely face-distorting.
Nonetheless, its presence casts me back to my adolescent acned past when it seemed hard to find a speck of face that wasn't covered in zits. Being naturally shy, this amplified my self-consciousness into epic proportions. So much so that there were days when I was loathe to go out of the house.
Those times are long gone, thank goodness. Still I know perfectly well that when I go into work tomorrow, I will sense that everyone in looking at my spot. But somehow it no longer matters any more.
But I will be glad when it is gone. It is sore.