blue

I painted my nails yesterday, a shade of blue somewhere between navy and royal. I’ll love it until I don’t, and by then, it’s likely it will have stained my nails a bit, even with a strong base coat. I do my nails at home, mostly because of money. Also, I’m not sure when I would have the time to sit and have someone else do them.

I used to think it would be easier to be one of those people who always have the same color manicure. I’ve dabbled with pale neutrals, a gorgeous tomato red I return to again and again, oxblood (still my all-time favorite), almost black, gray, blue, raspberry. I can’t settle on any of them. I realize I don’t need to, but there’s part of me that likes the idea of not having to decide when it’s time to change the polish.

I know decision fatigue is real, but it’s hard to believe I can have that when I’m not in charge or a corporation or many decisions of major consequence.

When I opened the curtains to look into the Sunday morning quiet, I noticed my nails are definitely closer to royal or denim or something that isn’t navy at all. I second-guessed the choice, knowing I want to wear a black sweater today. No one cares what color is on my nails; I know this, yet it feels like I could have chosen better. Silly thoughts about something that will chip, maybe even today, something that will be removed within days, saturated cotton pads pulling the blue away, tossed into the garbage until I consider painting blue again.