I’ve been “experimenting” with press-on nails, if you can call it that. I used to be a gel mani addict through and through, but panini put a wrench in that. So I got creative with my nails, and like why not? For $14 you can get a set of reusable nails and I say that’s a bargain!
Plus, I really like the long nail aesthetic — it feels luxurious to me. Oh, you want me to perform manual labor? You want me to use my hands? Sorry, can’t. My delicate digits must remain coddled at this time.
The thing I didn’t quite prepare for was the complete inability to type. I’m writing this now on my phone because the keyboard is almost inaccessible to me with these claws.
Adam says it’ll be like acquiring a new skill, typing with the flats of my fingers. Flapping my fingers against the keyboard like duck feet, hoping I hit the right series of letters. Anyone who has mastered this skill is an olympian of the hands. Physical prowess beyond measure. God-like achievement in a mortal form.
It’s worth the struggle, though. Cuz I feel like a bad bitch and we all deserve to feel like a bad bitch.