I’m not sure what it is about gaudy fingernail polish- but it inspires me.
I bought a little bottle of “Heaven-Help-Us-It’s-A-Shirley-Temple-Lemon-Drop-Yellow-Nightmare” nail polish and stashed it away in my dresser drawer where it has quietly existed for a week or more next to all the random beauty products I never *really* intend to use. I like to think about it sitting there, waiting for the moment when I need something to spark my imagination. Waiting for tonight.
You know, it looks absolutely awful. Absolutely awful. The color is lovely on it’s own (if you’re into lemon-drops and bananas and caution tape), but in all honesty, it makes my already less-then-lovely fingers look like they belong in a Carmen Miranda dance number.
What does that say about me? Sometimes I don’t want to know.
But here I am, waiting for my distressingly cheerful nails to dry, feeling rather smug and pat and ready to complete my latest exam in which I will describe- in not less than 75 but not more than 100 words- three things that a freelance writer must do once an assignment has been accepted.
The night is young- I may even take on the next lesson as well…..