I’m So Not A Nails Girl.

I’m so not a nails girl.

I like to keep my nails short, clean and clear. Why? Because it’s practical, goes with everything and looks good.

I don’t have the patience to paint my own nails, at least not well.

So, once every blue moon, I head to a good nail bar and treat my nails to a little TLC and a nice coat of colour.

But I’m so not a nails girl.

I find the process – sitting there for at least half an hour – tiring. And boring. And all I want to do is fidget. And I usually do. And consequently chip my nails, usually within an hour of finishing my manicure. Because I’m so not a nails girl.

The other week the blue moon was out, and I headed to a nail bar for some shaping, filing and nude polish.

And this is pretty much how it went:

Manicurist: Ok, hands out, no like this, here, rings off, ok.

Me (thinking): Ok, Captain.

Did you pick a colour?

Yes, this one thanks.

I wonder if she ever gets bored doing this all day, every day? I’d be no good at this job. Although, I suppose, if I did it all the time I’d get better.

I wonder if the fumes affect your brain? Surely it’s not good for you. All those chemicals going right up the nostrils.

Ouch. What was that? Bloody nail file. Maybe doing the same job every day makes you sloppy. Or stabby.

Man this is boring.

Eww, look at that lady’s nails next to me. Yuck.

My hand is itchy. Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move.

Be still.

Sorry.

Damn it.

I wonder how many people get this done weekly? If they did this once a week, that’d be 2 hours a month, at least, on nails. 24 hours a year. At least. A whole day. On nails. A whole day of sitting. And breathing in those toxic fumes. Probably takes most people an hour though. So that’s 4 hours a month. 48 hours. 2 days. Of sitting. And literally waiting for paint to dry.

That reminds me, I must fix that bit of chipped paint on the hallway wall.

Did I take the washing off the line this morning? Don’t think I did, hope it doesn’t rain.

Why am I thinking about the washing? I shouldn’t be thinking. I read somewhere that people should try and use manicure time to decompress.

Ok, try not to think.

Oh this is stupid. I never not think. And how can I decompress when someone is prodding my fingernails?

I wonder if we’re halfway through yet.

I must book in a haircut. Why don’t manicurists talk to you like hairdressers do? Hairdressers are so chirpy and friendly. Manicurists are scary. They are all about the business. I’ve never heard of anyone having a gossip session with their manicurist. Except for in that film, The Women. I actually liked that film. Women hated it. I just liked the characters. Some people take things to seriously.

Ok, time for the hand massage.

Sounds good.

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Is the massage over already? That was nice. Wish it was half an hour of that. Massage is so good for you, should really do more.

It’d be great to have a weekly appointment somewhere.

Yeah, sure, between nails and hair and a massage and this and that and the other, it’d be a full time job just looking good.

Feeling good is underrated.

I’m hungry.

Time for polish.

Great.

I bet this polish won’t last long. I wonder if this nude colour will suit me. Or just blend in. I love nude. I also love that grey shade over there. Maybe I’ll buy some.

Oh what’s the point of that? I never paint my nails.

Look at the way she does that. What a pro.

What will I make for dinner tonight? Maybe a roast. How good is our oven? Such a good oven.

Must go to a farmer’s market soon. Must Google farmer’s markets close by.

Must keep an eye out for cheap flights to Sydney. Gotta schedule in some meetings up there.

Must pick up that new John Butler CD. And a Billy Joel ‘Best Of’ CD. How good is Billy Joel? I love Billy Joel.

Must buy some coriander to plant. And some basil. And some pots to plant them in.

I should really write all of this down so I don’t forget.

But I can’t. Because I’m getting my nails done. Why did I decide to come today? Seriously? It’s not like I’m going anywhere special that requires me to have painted nails. As if anywhere even exists that requires painted nails. And I have so much to do.

Is that a top coat? Yessssssss. This must nearly be over. Must try not to tap my nails on anything.

I’ve got to go to the supermarket though. How’s that going to work? I’m going to look like a right twat trying to pick things off the shelf with my fingers spaced out, trying to dry.

All done.

Great, thank you.

Just sit here for at least 10 minutes to allow your nails to dry. But you’ll need at least 45 minutes of not touching your nails for them to dry properly.

Ugh.

WHAT am I going to do sitting here for 10 minutes? And who could ever sit for 45? If you added that 45 minutes to the half an hour it normally takes, that’d be, hang on, how many hours a month?

Oh don’t kid yourself Sandi, you were never a maths girl.

And I’m so not a nails girl.