And the minutes creeeeep by...
It's almost 5.
There is this lady at work who got acrylic nails done about the time I started working here, two months ago. She still has them on. Over time, I have been watching them grow out more and more, getting increasingly faded, chipped, and raggedy, her tattoed finger overshadowed by their atrocity. They look just aweful. She is a horrendous chain smoker and has a gravely voice and bad hair and skin, but I thought "hey, at least she cares about the little details." Apparently not. Today I was in her office, and while she talked, I watched those grown-out talons with their straky black tips flail about as she wrote in childish penmanship and twirled her brittle hair. I wanted to dip her in bleach solution and squeegie that grime away.
