"Too white to function," isn't hyperbole. I am seriously too pale to conduct normal life.
Case in point: today I sat outside for a graduation ceremony. I was probably out in the sun from 8:30 a.m. to roughly 12:30 p.m. -- and a good portion of that time, I was shielding myself from the sun with the graduation program (which, let's be real, aside from using the front page as a countdown until it's over, that's all it is good for).
And now I am in a situation where I need to apply the aloe vera to a literal sick burn.
Y'know, I get it. My ancestors were from a much more northern region than Boston. They hung out in Ireland and England and Scotland (and apparently Poland somewhere in there). They dealt with a lot more rain and cloud cover. They also dealt with a lot more of that ozone layer.
But -- seriously -- I would like to go out for a run without SPF 80 on because I'll otherwise be coming home with a Ring Around the Abby: a nice red strip that goes across my forehead and then continues on at the base of my neck. I would like to not resemble a tomato if I go out to the beach. I would like to not invest as much money in sunscreen as I do in soap.
And I would like to not get a sunburn if I have my sunroof open on a drive that lasts more than 20 minutes. I mean, seriously. That shit is just not fair.
Well, nothing I can do now but treat my burns and keep an eye out for any freckles that have decided to go rogue. And bemoan my very white state.