Skin Mountain

I have what could be termed a zit on my forehead. It sits high and could be covered by a well-placed sweep of the hair falling at an angle from the bangs position. Yet, for now, it sits exposed. It is, shall we say, large. But I am quite lucky because rather than revealing itself a monstrous, writhing, and greasy mound of pus bulging from beneath skin burning with the bloody glow of inflammation, it more closely resembles a bug bite. It is like a medium-diameter though prominent bug bite and I prefer to treat it that way. Don't touch! Stay away! Let it cool and recede and the body will work its magic to tackle the poorly-armored foreign beasts that established this bastion. The mountain will be overrun, my misguided bacterial friends, and there is nothing you can do but wait and weep.