Polishing My Nails


You Don't Know Jacques - OPI Polish

You know what’s funny? Doing things because I enjoy them. Because I actually have time. Because I can focus on myself for a bit of time. This one thing is polishing my nails. This is going to sound funny, but I marvel at the women in the nail shop when I go to get my eyebrows tamed that are there every week changing their polish. At first, I thought it was a source of unnecessary spending, and maybe it is, but as I sat letting Tweeti rip out hairs from my face, I realized that it was a form of just being able to do something for yourself. It may be small, and you may be spending quite a bit to let someone else do what could be done at home, but you aren’t. 

Saturday, after fighting off house packing for as long as I could, I came into my office, late in the evening and removed the polish that I got when I visited Grand Traverse. It was a gorgeous plum and orange combo, and YIKES it was difficult to remove! That almost stopped me from stepping into something that I normally don’t do. I was going to polish my nails. Myself. Both hands. While my husband and children were in my house. All of these things were more like attempting to bake a souffle with the Kentucky Derby running through my house. Something was bound to go wrong. It always happens that way, no? I settled down with a bottle of OPI You Don’t Know Jacques that I’ve had for a LONG time. So long in fact that I’m surprised that it’s not goo. 

Something as simple as polishing my nails and focusing for half an hour on me was cathartic. ME focusing on ME. I didn’t have someone else doing it, and I was even able to tune out all of the craziness that was taking place in my house. Mostly because Mr. Houseful was present – I wasn’t THAT out of it. I don’t do it enough. Retreat for me. I think that men have it naturally. No shade. They are able to take time for themselves and not feel a ton of guilt about it. If they do feel a ton of guilt, they do a GREAT job hiding it. I sat back and while carefully allowing my nails to dry, I continued with season one of Breaking Bad – which I haven’t totally gotten into by the way. I mean, it’s a great show, but I’m not chomping at the bit to get through it – mostly because it’s over, and I don’t have to catch up before a new season starts. 

I’m not making any promises now. Polishing my nails isn’t going to be my new thing. It’s not. I can assure you. It’s Monday morning and I already have a chip on my ring finger of my left hand because I thought that I had leftover bread dough on it, and absent-mindedly picked it off without looking. You see? I can’t win. 

I do have my next color picked out though. It’s another OPI jewel called Incognito in Sausalito. I’ll see how well it fares. I’m really not going to be a nail polish junkie. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not. Although, those nail shots will look so much better when I’m photographing how-to’s. Decisions, decisions. 



  1. Liz says:

    Oh, this post is just all sorts of awesome. It also reminds me how lucky I am to have grown girl babies who enjoy doing my nails, for me. Come on ova!

  2. Melisa says:

    I am one of those salon regulars, because I get gel polish manicures: as a nail biter and compulsive regular polish-picker, I have to have my nails covered at all times with something sturdy. That said, on the occasions when the gel chips prematurely, I occasionally paint my own and it ends up looking like a crime scene…but I do enjoy the process. 🙂

  3. DeNae says:

    I found you through NaBloPoMo and I’m so glad I did. I’m a married mama of 4 as well. And I’d love a nice manicure, now that I think about it, but I just stupidly bit one of my fingernails since I’m slightly stressed about moving this weekend. AAAHHH. So, I’ll wait for my manicure. Enjoy!

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