I am trying to get ready for a class I have this week. All week. Every day this week. A class as in "Get up, get your lazy ass out of bed, drive an hour there and an hour home, and madly do homework for the next day's class" class.
On a completely different tangent: My fingernails have grown through no fault of their own. I have actually been too lazy to cut them. I know they'll have to go tomorrow evening, most probably, after an eight-hour class. It's hard to write and type with them long like this. So I decide tonight that I will paint them. Just a light pink. Just for fun.
An hour later I am sitting at the computer, and I smell maple syrup. Seriously, that's all I can smell. I am suddenly craving pancakes and French toast.
I pass my hand across my face to get hair out of my way, and I smell it even stronger. Definitely maple syrup. I start noticing that my fingertips smell like I have been soaking them in Vermont Maid. When the hell would I have gotten maple syrup on me?
Sad as this is to admit, it took me about ten minutes to figure this one out. I did not wash someone's dishes after that someone had eaten maple syrup. Nothing dripped or overflowed in the refrigerator. I cannot even recall the last time I saw anything with maple syrup on it nor near it.
I am so tired and so distracted trying to get ready for this class that I need a snack to help me make the home stretch of prep work. I start chowing CheezIts.
And then I realize. I figure it out as I am lifting little processed cheese squares to stuff into my face. I am so slow, so dense, so ridiculous sometimes.
I... painted... my... fingernails.
It's not maple syrup I am inhaling (and probably ingesting since the nails are not completely dry). IT'S FINGERNAIL POLISH.
I may not finishing packing for the class, and I may not leave the house on time, and I may not be able to dodge traffic, and I may not find the classroom on the first try, and I may not even like the damn class, but there is one certainty. My fingernails, at least for one day, will look marvelous (and smell like breakfast).
Let's hope that's not the highpoint of the whole experience. I'll keep you posted.
