For 72% of people, it all worked out rather nicely. After just two weeks, this majority did indeed report longer, fuller lashes.
It's been a month now, and I'm really quite miffed that I can't say the same.
But for 72% it worked! The laws of probability dictate that I should now be delighted with luscious eyelashes, but unfortunately it seems I'm in the unspoken stat: for 28%, the experiment wasn't quite so successful.
Now normally, I love being different:
- "Where's that accent from?" people will ask.
- "AB blood type? That's quite unusual" the blood nurses will say.
- "Oh, left-handed, are you?" remark some perceptive folks when they witness me demonstrating the dying art of handwriting (discuss?).
But sometimes, just sometimes, I really wouldn't mind being "normal". I'll be unique and special when I want to be, thank you very much - but for everything else, I'll happily huddle in with the crowd.
Unfortunately, we don't get to choose. As I continue my walk through life I find I'm proving to be more and more "exceptional" in areas that I didn't really imagine would be the case, and I find this increasingly difficult to deal with. But why should I get the easy ride? Why shouldn't I join the scores of friends I know who have to watch what they eat lest their body plays up disapprovingly? (I'm currently on a strict lactose- and gluten-free diet in an attempt to clear up my terribly dry skin). Why shouldn't I have to jobhunt for longer than the average person in order to land my next career opportunity?
And why shouldn't I make do with the reasonable-length lashes that mother nature saw fit to bestow upon me in the first place?
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