I told you I work better at night.

So it's six minutes until 2 a.m., and I'm really, truly exhausted.

I know, usually I'm a total insomniac, but I'm really exhausted from a long day of writing, exercising, and reality TV watching. I also started a new blog recently. It's not ready for public viewing yet. It's my profession blog, as opposed to this personal one in which you must endure my sleep-deprived ramblings.

Anyway, I just thought I'd share with you all the completely physical, completely existential crisis I've been amidst lately. (I am the only person I know who is able to have a crisis that is both physical and existential at the same time.) It started a few months ago now, but really it started a quarter of a century ago when I was born. It started the first time someone cooed, "Oooo, look at that pretty little girl," or commented how big my eyes were or whatever.

You see, I've always obsessed about the way I look. I know I'm a smart person and an independent woman and I'm not supposed to say that or admit that. I should be spending this time I spend obsessing reading a book or volunteering or something, but I don't and I'd be lying if I said I planned to anytime soon.

I clearly remember being five and having a debate with myself in front of my closet about what outfit I should wear to school. There was a boy in my class I had a crush on, and I distinctly remember my five-year-old self looking at a particular dress is my closet and wondering, "Hmm, if I wear that, will I look sexy?"

Yeah, I had that word, "sexy," in my vocabulary at five. I don't know how it got there, probably TV, but that's beside the point.

The point is, that ever since I was at least five, I've been worried to some extent about my physical appearance. I know everyone does this to some extent. Even the really anti-establishment types dress a certain way due to concern about appearance. I have several male friends who think they eschew superficiality by dressing only in clothing that doesn't have any logos on it. I'm sorry, but do you have any idea how difficult it is in this country in this day in age to track down clothes with no visible label? Even if you found such a garment, the thing would probably have some kind of discernible brand marking. And I'm not just talking about people who "know designers." Any idiot can recognize a shirt from Hot Topic if he needed to.

So I know I'm not the only one who worries about appearance, but I've recently become so utterly obsessed, and at the same time, so utterly tired from worrying all the time. I mean, can't one hour go by when I don't have to worry if I have food in my teeth or what my profile looks like or not stare into my reflection in a window as I walk past (while pretending I'm not looking)?

That's the question. The epicenter of my crisis. Tomorrow I will likely post part II of this blog topic. But only if I'm not too busy buying whitening strips.