The Nail That Hung

“I’ll be back… and I am back! For goooooood.” – Michael Gary Scott

Yea so I know I’ve been conspicuously absent from everyone’s internet for the greater part of the past month, but during my writing hiatus I’ve been out and about collecting new information with which to bore everyone that reads this.  Actually, I think you’ll really like the new story I’m working on.  But anyway, here’s a little diddy for you to tide you over until I finish the new thang, which will hopefully be within the next week.  It’s about a hang-nail.  Be patient, it kinda sucks.

I looked down at my fingers.  There they were, all ten of them, dancing around in the air to some tune I’d been running through my mind all day.  I like to do that you know, run songs through and through in my head when I should probably be paying attention in class.  I dunno, I guess I just like music, and who am I to tell my brain to stop playing it over and over, right?  Are there other, more productive things I could be doing with my time?  Yes, of course, like eating or sleeping or studying.  All of which comprise the vast majority of my weekly routine.  I was going to get a “Monthly Planner” from Meijer’s the other day.  It was pretty schnazzy, if I do say so myself, gunmetal black with all sorts of bells and whistles, but then I got to thinking about what I’d actually write into this Keeper of Daily Events, and I realized that writing down “Eat, Study, Sleep” thirty times a month would make the realization all the more depressing.  There’s just some finality about seeing something in writing.  Then I got to thinking, and I started brainstorming about all the amazing activities I could do if I were blessed with loads of riches.  Base jumping, skydiving, so many games.  I considered buying the planner anyway and writing crazy events in there.  You know, “Tuesday Jan. 11: Icelandic Fishing Trip” and stuff like that.  Then I’d leave the planner out when people came over, have them find it and read it, and I could make up astonishing stories about how great of a life it’d be.  Didn’t end up buying it though, still regret it.

Anyway, I looked down at my fingers and saw that I had a hangnail on my right ring finger.  Sweet God, what a letdown, I’m sure you know exactly how I felt.  I was devastated, my day had been ruined.  Well, I don’t know if I’ll go that far, but my fingers stopped their dancing, that’s for sure.  This wasn’t one of those trivial hangnails either, this bugger was in deep, clinging to all sorts of finger skin.  So now I have two options: I can pretend like it’s not there and succumb to a day’s worth of piercing pain every time I write something, or I can teach my nails a lesson and pull this bitch out.  I don’t really like losing, so I decided to go with the latter.  I like that reference, “the latter.”  It doesn’t matter what you’re talking about, if you say “the latter” you will sound exponentially smarter than doing otherwise.  Back to the nails.  Having decided to make an example out of this rogue bit of nail that tried to sabotage my afternoon, I needed a medium with which to do so.  After a few seconds’ debate, I went with my left hand.  I grasped the little sliver of pain with my index finger and thumb and proceeded to get to business.  You know when you know you have to do something, but every fiber of your being tells you not to do it?  It goes against every instinct you have.  This wasn’t nearly that intense, but it did put up a pretty good fight.  I was at it for probably a good ten seconds, which understandably doesn’t sound like much, but when you’re fighting your own body, it can seem like an eternity.  I looked at the nail with contempt, having conquered my enemy and passed my test with flying colors.  I felt good inside.  Then I cast aside the nail with a slight flick of my wrist and looked up.  The girl across from me on the bus had been watching me the whole time.  She was giggling.  I was defeated.

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