BITE ME

I hate getting my nails done. It's like the dentist for me.

Pedicures make me squirm: I always think they're going to cut me when they do the cuticle part. And then when they scrub down your calluses, it feels like someone is tickling-slash-scraping you, which are two of my least favorite sensations.

And I've had 2 manicures in my life, both under age 10: it was a reward incentive from my dad to stop BITING THEM.

There, I said it.

I AM A NAIL BITER.

Since I could chew. Probably before.


I have tried everything to stop.

Nasty-tasting nail polish, hypnosis, acrylics...the list goes on.

Ironically, I needed a new set of acrylics today (again, like the dentist) and so as I was sitting there, watching my nubby beds of nothingness being ground away yet again (you can't even read a magazine while you are having your hands attended to...bah!), my mind was forced to return to more self-deprecating thoughts of how lame and hindered I am for being a highly-functioning adult who still has the urge to self-mutilate.

But then I read THIS article in Marie Claire and now I feel equally as validated knowing that a hallmark of being an overachiever is nail-biting. (Anderson Cooper, anyone?!)

Maybe her last remedy will really be this simple this time around.


Eh, maybe I'll just keep the acrylics until I have time.

BITE ME.
(No, not you Edward Cullen.)