They ridicule my nails – they’re so unkempt, with lined skin
and chapped. Make fun of my faded “pink” hair when I fail to recolor it quickly
enough. My son tried to teach me some skills and went and bought me a Papyrus
card with an enclosed gift certificate for a manicure to try and show me what
others expect in the way of grooming. I used the gift card to get a manicure
and massage, both of which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Examine and judge me like an object there only for their
enjoyment and disdain while they gossip about my hair and my nails. Really is
this what counts? How I make myself up nice and proper and meet the societal
mores? My nails, my hair, shaving for the beach – I hate all three.
I’m too busy and too cheap to take the time to enjoy the little
things. Time takes its toll, year after year, cleaning and cleaning, rarely
using gloves I clean without gloves to feel what I’m cleaning, to feel
smoothness or roughness, to feel dents and bruises.
I think I’m confused by it all – why it means so much. OK, I
admit it’s true it’s not that much money, but for me – I, who more or less
consistently refuse to shave my legs and rarely shave my underarms, and who
uses scissors to trim my underarms, do you really suppose this is what will
take importance on my growing to-do list? I use opaque tights and the hair
doesn’t show. I rarely wear sleeveless so what difference does it make if I only
trim the hair? It really does burn and hurt my skin for two days afterward.
It’s like heels – I can barely walk without heels so how am I going to walk
with them?
Oh, I hear the arguments now, “Your self-esteem must be
affected by not doing these things.” Or, “You have to be nice to yourself and treat
yourself sometimes.” And incredibly sometimes, I do carry through and buy these
treats for myself. Perhaps in my entire life, I’ve had less than a dozen
manicures. Well for sure, I can guarantee you I’ve had less than two-dozen
manicures. But I do - do occasionally I do - do for sure.