The Mock Dock

So, I’m going to brag on myself for a minute, you guys. And you know I’m the first to point out my flaws, of which there are many, but you know what I have that’s always been pretty great? Nice nails. I have the kind of nails that grow like weeds and they’re super fat. I actually have to trim them because they get all dragonlady really quickly, and when I trim them, they’re so fat and tough that they fly across the room. I’ve been genetically blessed with fabulous nails. And I appreciate the crap out of them, even though the apparent tradeoff was terrible thin, fine hair, a Buddha belly and a seven-head.

ANYWAY, I’ve always appreciated my nails. When Daisy and I were in West Baden and we got manicures, my nails were freaking GORGEOUS. I never wear nail polish, but with a manicure you kind of make an exception, so for about a week, while the so-pale-you-could-barely-notice-it-pink-nail-polish lasted, I seriously had hand model hands. They were fabulous. I removed the polish once it started looking chippy, and was left with my regular plain old nails, and I was happy.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday, because I am a complete freak about fluffing my overstuffed chair cushion every day, my nails are no longer fabulous. I went to fluff the cushion, and I don’t know how exactly I did it, but the middle fingernail on my right hand caught on something, bent backwards for a moment, and then snapped back into position. This is one of the disadvantages of having really fat nails. With flimsier nails, it might have just leaned back a little bit, and then leaned forward and straightened itself out. But with fat nails, when they bend back, it’s utter agony for that split second, and then a nice constant throb for minutes afterwords, with some blood pooling to boot.

Upon close examination of the nail, it was clear that it was torn on one side, and all jagged, and so it had to come off. And now, I have this perfectly nice looking left hand:

Aaaaaaaand a horrific looking right one:

HATE.

You’re all probably like, “Really? I just wasted 60 seconds of my life that I will never get back reading about Mock’s freaking BROKEN NAIL?” Yes, mockdockers. Yes, you did. But what more appropriate place is there to share my misery, except here at the Mock Dock? I need sympathy. Or at least a reminder about how fabulous my new shoes are.