Red Polish

I can take delight in some pretty silly things. For instance, as I’m typing here, I keep glancing at my fingernails, my deep red fingernails that have been painted for four days now and haven’t chipped. Two coats of the Cover Girl classic red I bought at Kroger on Labor Day and I’m a happy girl. Nail polish doesn’t usually make me happy. In fact, I hardly ever wear it because it chips all the time. I’ve always expected the chips, because I’m a clumsy girl, rough on my hands. Now I know I’ve just been buying really cheap polish. My toes are next, and perhaps a more muted color for my fingers. I don’t feel like myself in red even though it makes me happy. I feel a little Cruella.

I’m still recovering from the nasty sinus infection I had last week. It has progressed to bronchitis, and it seems to be lingering longer than usual. Maybe that’s a result of having asthma now. How great it is to live in Knoxville. My lungs love Knoxville. Almost as much as they love our cats. I sound like I should be living in a cranky rest home. At least the bronchitis didn’t stop me from tubing down the river at the family reunion last weekend. Then I would have become whiny. Of course, then I wouldn’t have had to bear the sore abs that resulted from holding my awkward self up on the tube.

OK, time to look at my nail polish again.

Shiny.