pretty ugli

I bite my nails.

It’s disgusting.

I realize I only do it when I’m supposed to be doing something else; studying, listening to a lecture or homily, talking to mama on the phone, or filling in the answers to a difficult test of quiz. If I am completely occupied by something else, my nails are safe from harm.

Biting your nails is like smoking a cigarette. You get a strange stress relieving feeling while you’re doing it, but then afterward you feel all icky and you regret it.
I’m staring at my ruined manicure, agitated with the knowledge that I will be spending time (that I don’t have) fixing it later and spending a week waiting on my nails to grow back.

Maybe I like biting my nails because I know I’m not supposed to. But biting nails, while on a much smaller scale, is like destroying anything. You feel great being a badass and doing what you want but then you look at what is left; jagged, ugly pieces of what was smooth and healthy before.

It’s so much more difficult to smooth over the messes we make than it was to create them in the first place. You’d think we’d learn our lesson.