I get my $4 bottle of vinho verde and head home. I pour a cup of water into a pot and let it boil. I add the ramen noodles and then the spiced sodium packet.
I sit down and eat my dinner, wash it down with a glass of wine and stare at my nails. The time has come to break my $70 French manicured gel nail habit. I pour a second glass of wine and drink it in two gulps. Even though I know I need to to do this - I don't want to and decide to watch Law and Order.
I keep glancing at my nails, surveying each nail, one at a time, one last time. Then I bite across the wide part of my left nail until it snaps and I crack through the 6 layers of gel. Once the nail shellac is loose I use my opposite thumb nail to pull the layered gel from my nail, before tearing the top layer of my actual nail. It stings at first, then it throbs a little, and finally subsides. I do the same thing for each finger on my left hand, then the right hand. Until all of nails are reduced to the nubs.
By the time I am done, I am crying - I know how uber stupid girl I sound - but I have been getting my nails done since 1995 - it is, in my mind, my signature thing. And yes it would have been easier to go into a salon and have the gel layers soaked off. But it was something I needed to do in private. Alone. In the long run, some day when I decide to buy an apartment, I will be glad that I got my financial house in order. But right now I feel sad that this is not the life I thought I'd be living. And kinda like my nails I feel, bitten, rough and raw.