I painted my nails tonight, for the first time in months; I’d left them unvarnished in hopes of healing whatever it was (probably a fungal infection) that made the nail on my left second toe split from front to back. It used to be that I never let my toenails go unpainted, but between the nail problems and the gloom of the last several months at TEX, I hadn’t done anything about them in a long time, and I hadn’t done my fingernails in even longer, because I got tired of having to peel a polish job off every Sunday, when the weekend was over and I had to go back to being work-a-daddy.
I think I was ready again last Saturday, when T’s friend Stef stayed over the night, and they wanted me to run them to the beauty supply shop after hair dye (T helped Stef dye her hair a dark purple that turned out quite becomingly). While they were picking out dye and makeup, I realized I hadn’t bought myself any new polish in ages, and that I missed having my nails done in strong, contrasting colors, so I bought three bottles: metal-flake silver, dark amethyst, and the one I’m putting on tonight, a color called Deep Passion that’s the color of venous blood, a strong black-red that should look dynamite against my skin tones. I don’t expect to have any interviews the rest of the week, so I should be able to leave the varnish on until it starts chipping and needs renewing.
M and I are supposed to have lunch tomorrow with Linda at Nuevo León; I haven’t seen her since November or maybe even longer. Not getting to see and to talk with Linda regularly is one of the few things I truly miss about not working for the City, and gaining her friendship is perhaps the most wonderful thing that came of being a bureaucrat for all those years.
Poly dinner’s at Fuddrucker’s tonight. L said that she and T had clogging practice and I should ring up Hands and get a ride there with her, because otherwise I’d have practically no time to visit with people, what with running back and forth to pick up and drop off (Peekap Andropov? Doesn’t he work for Click and Clack?) everyone. That’s not a bad idea at all, since it’d force Hands to get herself ready to go in some kind of reasonable time, instead of sinking into angst and dithering until it’s so late that by the time she’s ready to leave her apartment, she’s missed the whole thing.
I don’t think the 5-HTP is doing a damned thing as an anti-depressant for Hands, and using it to replace the Prozac she was taking looks to have been really misguided. She looks to me to be sinking right back to the despond she was in last fall. I dunno if she can be persuaded to see this, but I think I need to make some effort at it.
The radioactive kitten evaluates the cosmic iguana. Fnord.
