I knew better, I really did. But I bought the glue-on temporary nails anyway. “They could really mess up my real nails”, I thought. But then something overrode that concern and I made the purchase.
They sure looked good.
I’ve always wanted nice nails and the only reason I don’t get them from the nail lady is because I’m not good at regular maintenance. I never seem to get in as often as I need to in order to make them consistently purty. We went out with friends on Saturday night and my nails were lovely. I had natural, lovely nails once before but it took 24/7 antibiotics via IV for them to grow. That seemed a little extreme this time.
On Sunday morning one spontaneously popped off and I decided to take them all off to see how difficult it was. Ridiculously difficult, as it turned out. They would not loosen even after soaking in acetone polish remover as instructed. So hubby brought up his can of pure acetone and after about 10 minutes of soaking, and burning the little hairs up my nose, the nails began to dissolve. It was a messy, tedious and dangerous job and it left me with bruised cuticles and two nails as thin as rice paper. This is as painful as it looks. The cuticle is red and ragged, the centre of the nail has been worn away almost to the skin. Two nails were left in this condition.
I know better. So what was I thinking? I guess I thought that a drug store, a place stocked with things that soothe and heal you, wouldn’t sell anything harmful. And then I put glue on my nails. I can only surmise that my IQ spikes at times and plummets at others. In conclusion, one night of lovely nails isn’t worth whatever time it will take for these babies to heal again.