I don’t chew my nails. I DON’T. I’m a girl, and I try to grow out my nails so they sort of look pretty. Because I’m a girl. I also know where my fingers have been.
But occasionally, a nail will crack or split and I am left with an unacceptable misshapen fingernail. Unacceptable. I don’t chew my nails, but I have an obsessive personality, and nothing sends me off on an OCD spasm like a broken fingernail. Ladies, are you with me? Give me a whoop, whoop!
So, I was at a Timbers game and I crunched a thumb on the seats and split a nail. This was probably the most inopportune time to attend to a broken thumbnail. I’m sure I’d be breaking some sort of law if I clipped my fingernails in PGE Park. Or, in the very least, it would be gross.
So, it wasn’t a super exciting game, no scores for the first full 89 minutes. I was sitting there chawing on my thumbnail with my teeth until it sort of looked okay. Then the OCD alarms stopped going off. I could relax until I got to a nail file to smooth it down. Timbers scored, no joke, in the 90th minute and all of PGE Park went batshit insane. Then they almost scored another 2 or 3 times in the left over minutes. They won 1-0.
I went home and got ready for bed. I forgot about my thumbnail, because it was no longer an emergency. It was trimmed into a reasonable shape, but the edges were serrated like a steak knife. I was going to smooth it out with a nail file. But I forgot.
I was changing into my PJs and scraped my thumb against my chest. I was brushing my teeth and looking in the mirror, and HOLY CRAP, I was bleeding. WTF? From that little scrape? Evidently, I have the skin of a dainty newborn baby angel. Because that scrape turned into an ugly, full-on cut.
Thankfully, it was low enough on my boob that any shirt covers it up. It’s really an oddly placed wound. On my boob. And if people saw it, in their heads, they’d think, Wha…? Why there? What crazy shit could she possibly be doing at home? Because really, it looks like my boob lost a knife fight.
So, in summary: Avoid chewing your nails.
I think nail-chewing is gross. Lebron James chews his fingernails. Not Heather-fixing-a-chipped-nail chewing but down-to-the-flesh-and-chew-some-more chewing. He will never win an NBA championship unless he stops doing that. Neither will you, Heather.
Why don’t you drench your dainty, newborn baby angel skin with life saving sunscreen. Worried about a rough nail edge… pbbtt!!
But I too, am drawn to an imperfect nail, gnawing on it until it no longer creates pulls in my clothes. Is this quality from mum or dad?
But nails are so tasty!
Do we have to put gloves on your hands? And Duct tape!! You’ll never see your hands again!! How fun it will be!!
I’m just bummed I won’t ever win the NBA Championship. Sigh.
I used to lose nail clippers all the time, then I found a cute little pill box with a keychain attachment, I stuck the clippers on that and threw it in the Pit of Despair that is my purse, and I can’t seem to lose it yet.