Nails and the Art of Zen

I know, I know - I've been silent for quite some time. Since the summer, in fact. And we now find ourselves in the thick of autumn.

Let me set the scene: last we saw of Sania, she was lamenting her departure from the land of milk & honey -- New York City -- and ready to move off into the great wild nothingness of the semi-South.

And now that she's here? Well, there is definitely a lot of nothingness. The (semi) South has a different dynamic that's interesting and infuriating at times, while still managing to be somewhat charming.

It doesn't help that I'm in one of the most intense graduate programs that I could have ever imagined. There's not a lot of time for grooming and feeling pretty. Women here also tend to prefer a classic look, which I can appreciate, but sometimes I just want to go for the trendy. I still do it, because that's my personality, but I definitely stick out in the crowd.

There is one habit that I have held onto, though. And that's doing my nails. In the midst of all the craziness of schoolwoork, homework, and all the other kinds of work, sitting down to paint my nails has almost a zen-like calming effect on me.

Maybe it's because it involves sitting down, with no distractions, putting my hands on the table, painting each nail meticulously and waiting for everything to dry. And that's ten minutes that I'm not forced to think about anyone or anything else, worry about what I have left to do, or when I'm going to sleep.

And looking down at my brightly painted nails can get me through any dragging day, because color? It makes everything better.


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