On the back of a cereal box
I woke up with so many lines on the right-side of my face from my pillow that it looks like a maze. And if you were to follow the lines with a pen, it would be a maze you never found your way out of. That’s how many lines there are.
Not only did this make me laugh (note the allusion to cereal box mazes!), but it has a great cadence that I at once wanted to adapt to my own life:
“I woke up with so much dog hair on my face that it was impossible to tell what color hair I have. And if you attempted to brush it off with your hand, you would never be able to get to my face underneath. That’s how much hair there was.”
Or:
“I arrived at work with so many wrinkles in my clothes that you couldn’t tell if my suit was pinstripe or plaid. And if you tried to iron it out with a professional-grade iron, you would never get it smooth. That’s how many wrinkles there were.”
Or:
“I got so depressed last night that my mood swallowed the entire city. And if you tried to circumscribe the extent of my sadness with a pen, it would be a circle too large for all the ink Bic could supply. That’s how depressed I was.”