Two months have past, and it’s time to file my finger nails down again.  They’re getting too long and I’m hitting the wrong keys.  I say this is a problem, because I have to give myself sometime between a couple of day and a week before I mentally prepare to perform this task.  I buy one nail file.  When I the I pick is upon me, I begin the process.  I sit in the kitchen usually a few hours after dinner.  No one is allowd in the kitched, or only for a minute to get a drink.  I file all ten fingers, one by one until I reach a point when they start to hurt, then I know they are short enough.  I’ve tried to leave them a little longer, but they don’t seem even, so I go as short as I can.  I can’t forget to mention that before I start the filing process, I have to go to the nail salon to get an acrylic nail put on my thumg on my right hand.  During one picking nite, I ripped my nail of all the way acrros down at thye bottom, the top was still attached, very painful, the skin pushed throught the old nail and the new one growing, so the new nail couldn’t get by the infected skin.  I had to had the skin surgically removed.  Made up an excuse that it fell off becuase I slammed it in the trunk.  The new nail is now permanently damaged, never grew back without splitting down the middle.  I did this, and I will have to get a fake one put on for the rest of my life to keep it together.  Back to filing.  When I’m finally done, I look at the digital clock, I have to continue until I see the number I deamed to be the end of filing number.  Then I go to the back deck and throw the nail file into the trees and bushes with my eyes closed so I don’t know where it went.  This way if I feel the need to continue I can’t find it.  There are those instances that I’ve used a different number, but didn’t feel good about it, and have to stop and go the store to get another nail file, just to throw in the bushes again,.  When done, all my fingers are sore.  But then I have to put two coats of clear nailpolish on top of it, which burns and my fingers begin to throb.  I place the closed bottle on top of the refrigerator in the perfect spot , as it will stay there until about two months when they grow out again.  I lay in bed, not to move an inch, for if I smear a nail, I will have to go back and repeat the painting process.  I fall asleep, and when I wake the next day, they are dry and sore.  Everytime I wash my hands, they throb, and I breath out warm air to stop the skin from shrinking.  I CAN’T WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW! (ug)


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