A Manicure

I've maybe gone to get a manicure a total of ten times in my life, and in the long period of time between appointments, I seem to always forget that it's a surprisingly difficult task for my left arm.

When Senior Prom rolled around, I thought it was enough of an occasion to head to the nail salon. As soon as I sat in the chair and lifted my arms onto the table between me and the manicurist, I quickly remembered my last couple visits and how tired my arm had become while "resting" on this table for the lady to paint my nails. Holding it up there in the right position wasn't exactly easy for me. Just another silly normal thing that I forget is a little more difficult for my left arm. 

This visit was especially fun. I came to realize that the woman painting my nails was fairly new. She was cutting my cuticles a little too close and finally I felt a sharp pang on my left ring finger and looked over to see blood. After twenty minutes of intense effort from three women trying to get my annoyingly persistent bloodstream to clot, they just had me hold it above my heart. Not only did my arm get extremely sore and tired, but also as I sat there in sweats, messy hair, and no makeup not long before I had to show up for prom pictures, I began to think I had scheduled the appointment a little too late in the day.

Eventually, I just gave up and put my arm down. I thought my arm would fall off if I held it up there any longer so I just let my finger bleed a little more. I walked out of there with a tired shoulder, a bloody finger, and a familiar wish to have a normal arm. But now, like always, it's just something to look back on and laugh at.