Nail Biting 101

Since I'm a writer, I should probably talk about books, the business, revisions, book covers, reviews, agents, editors, publishers, promotion, marketing, and deadlines. But there are so many people who do that so well that I think I'll skip that and talk about the things that interest me.

Like nail biting.

I have been a dedicated nail biter for a very long time. I started when I was about three, I think, and I have managed to perfect it as an art form. There's the bite-and-rip, which often leaves bloody corners in the nail bed. There's the nibble, where you just take chunks off the very end of the nail. And there is the cuticle-assault, where you gnaw on the dry cuticles until you expose raw skin. And always, there is the healing period where you look at your nails and sigh because they look like crap.

Nail biting is an activity that centers around anxiety and stress. There's dramatic- music-in-a-movie nail biting, which is my favorite. Lesser forms include I'm-late-for-work, my-husband-is-pissing-me-off, my-teenager-won't-look-me-in-the-eyes, and the ever-fun oh-let's-just-bite-because-that's-what-I-do.

So, imagine my surprise when I looked down the other day and realized that I hadn't bitten my nails in a really long time. They had actually grown to the end of my fingers! You can imagine my surprise at discovering that I had broken the habit of nail biting without doing a thing.

There are several theories floating around about how that could have happened. Someone (my husband) hypnotised me in my sleep. I was taken over by an alien. I don't have stress in my life anymore because I've reached a whole new level of consciousness and my all time favorite --I just don't know.

This is truly disturbing. Now don't get me wrong. I like having nails and everything. But I'm a bit perturbed that I've made this big life change and somehow I wasn't aware that I was doing it. And considering how much energy the other changes in my life have taken, this one is a real surprise.

To celebrate my new nails, I went out and bought some really expensive polish, a nail file, and cuticle oil. They are sitting on my desk so I can, at a moment's notice, primp those puppies. I've learned to file the sides so they don't look quite so wide (I guess I have big fingers). I can put on polish with my left hand (a feat that was not easily learned), and I do spend a lot of time admiring these rose-colored magnificants.

But I do have to wonder what's next? Will I wake up thin? Will my gray hair go back to being brown? Will my fallen arches suddenly rise to their original position? Are the lines on my face going to disappear?

This is the beauty of life. You just never know what's around the next corner.