Nails

Nails

I am not someone who spends a great deal of time on my appearance. My clothes have always been more practical than fashionable, I’ll bung on a bit of make up for work but that’s more to show willing than with the intention of looking any more attractive and my hair could at best be described as tidy (on a good day). I did however use to have nice nails. Not scary talons or anything like that but relatively long and most importantly well maintained nails. Smooth edges and equal lengths with nice soft cuticles, sometimes painted but more usually just given a bit of a buffing.

I suppose it’s no great surprise that the long nails went when E came along. They don’t work well with nappy changing and they are never going to grow properly when your hands are always wet. Looking at them today, all jagged and flaky, it occurred to me that, while I don’t particularly miss having long nails, I miss the feeling of having just done them. The feeling of having just spent half an hour doing something essentially frivolous because I wanted to and I didn’t have anything more pressing to do.

So tonight I have given my nails a bit of a tidy up for the first time in ages:

And even a lick of paint:

And I feel much better for it.

[Throughout April I'm taking part in the A to Z Challenge. This is my post for N (yes, ok, I know I should be on P by now). My last post was about Mammasaurus's Mission.]

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