Prompt

I never use a writing prompt for my blog; life usually serves up enough to choose from. Today, though, I don't want to write about life. It isn't that my life is bad. It's just that there's nothing to say about yet another school shooting -- so I'm not going to talk about it. Instead, I'm going to pull one of my writing books off the shelf, randomly open it to a prompt, and write about whatever is on the page. I haven't done this yet, so I'll pause to do it now. Okay, I did choose the book, if not the prompt. It's The Write-Brain Workbook by Bonnie Neubauer. And the prompt is . . . Footsies: Finish the story (the first three words are given).

Painted toenails always make me happy -- or at least when they're mine. Today I took my polish off (fingernails too), but I almost always have painted nails, and usually they are pink. I have about thirty bottles of nail polish, and at least twenty of them are various shades of pink. Sometimes I have them done, but more often I do them myself, an endeavor that has become less precise in recent years. I'm not sure if it's because of my vision or my flexibility, but even when I think I've done a good job, the bright daylight tells me otherwise. Still, they look okay. If it weren't for my cuticles, I'd probably always do them myself. I've torn up my finger and toe cuticles one too many times to want to try to get rid of them on my own. Scabby or bloody fingers and toes kind of undercut the purpose of a mani-pedi.

Bare toenails aren't horrible, just less happy. Even when the weather is cold and no one is likely to see them but me, I paint them. It might be the color itself that lifts my spirits -- I'm a fool for pink -- but I think it's more about finding brightness in an unexpected place. If you think about it, it's a little crazy to paint any part of your body, especially with a substance that's rather toxic. I don't care. It's a tiny luxury that costs nothing (since I already have an extensive collection of polishes) except a few minutes of my time. For me painted nails are like little bits of sunshine -- and I love the sun.