Ad Astra Per Alia Porci

Sometimes you need to see Steinbeck for the way to phrase things. This is one of those times because I am about to announce an impossibility. This is something that in my 23 years on God's green Earth I never thought or even imagined would happen. This is something so absurd that none of you will come close to guessing it.

Drum roll please:

Ladies and gentlemen, after 20-odd years of daily addiction, I have jumped off the bandwagon. My name is Eureka, and I am 16 days sober of nail-biting.

[I tried to find a crowd gasping sound effect for good measure but no dice. Pretend it's here]

Yes, my nails are growing out and have begun to peek above my fingertips. They look horrendously ugly (nothing new there) and are getting in the way of just about everything (typing, buttoning, zipping, nose picking, wiping, etc...) and I have accidently scratched myself on my than one occasion.

My bigger problem has been the lack of stress relief/distraction now that my nails are not being bitten. You see the big chocolate brown ape permanently perched on my back? The one I'm constantly swatting and arguing with? Yes, the one trying to pull nits out of what's left of my hair. That's him. He's there to warn everyone to STAY AWAY FROM THE CRAZY LADY IN WITHDRAWAL! I am fussy, I am itchy, I am running on a very short fuse and all I can think about is wanting to have just one tiny nibble on any of them.

Eureka's right brain: oh, look! The nail on my left index finger is growing too fast, if I just have the top off it'll be even.

Eureka's left brain: DON'T DO IT! If you start you know you'll keep going and all your pain and suffering will be in vain. Stay strong Eureka, stay strong.

A little while later:

Eureka's right brain: my right pinkie is uneven and keeps getting caught in fabric, it won't hurt to sort it out with just a tiny bite...

Eureka's left brain: But think of the CHILDREN! If you can't do it for yourself do it for them. What'll they say when you come home with no nails? The disappointment, the tears, the horror on their poor little faces. Can you bear it? Can you ever forgive yourself?

Eureka: Whoa there brain, melodramatic much?

Eureka's left brain: hey it worked to distract you, didn't it?

Eureka: yeah, I guess you're right

Eureka's left brain: just doin' my duty

Eureka's right brain: (sulkily under breath) pussy...

Sigh, it have been tough. I have had my moments of weakness as you can see. But this is the longest I've gone (both chronometrically and in terms of nail measurement) so we'll see how it pans out.

What prompted this, those of you who know my indifference towards nails and love for biting may ask. It is a combination of my masochistic need to figure out my own limits of endurance (see FMF) and exasperation with everyone and their mother's need to inform me that my nails are an abhorrence and I should not be seen in public this way. I've grown tired of people grabbing my hands and lecturing me on being 7. I don't care about what people think, I'm just tired of hearing the same tape playing over and over.

I still don't care about how my nails look and I am not looking forward to the hassle of maintaining them, but I want to prove to myself that I can do it. And hopefully people will start playing a new song.

Damn it! I just realized I didn't take a before photo. Snap.

Eureka's right brain: All the more reason to bite, my dear!

Eureka and her left brain: SHUT UP!