FINGERNAILS!

Picture Juno from the movie Juno in the scene where she finds out her unborn baby has fingernails.  She holds her hands up for demonstration and proclaims, “FINGERNAILS!  It has FINGERNAILS!”

This is how I felt last week, but instead of an unborn baby it was…you know…me.  I have FINGERNAILS.
fingernails
I bite my nails when I’m nervous, so the last time I had nails that didn’t look totally janky was back when…oh, I don’t know…when’s the last time I wasn’t completely overwhelmed by life?  Middle school?  That was fifteen years ago, y’all.
I looked down at my hands the other day, and I suddenly noticed, “WHOA!  Where did those come from?!”  I was on anti-anxiety meds basically all of last year, but I’ve been off of them for a few months now.  I feel like, for the first time in years, I can have normal and healthy responses to stressful situations, and I’m not even on meds that make me do that!  I’m able to do it on my own!  *cue Hallelujah chorus*
Here are some situations to help you understand the difference from how my life was before and how it is now (with FINGERNAILS! Has it stopped sounding like a word yet? Fingernails fingernails fingernails):
Situation 1: I drop a dish, and it breaks.
Before: AAAEEEEEE!! OH MY WORD! THIS IS AWFUL!  I’M THE WORST WIFE THAT EVER WIFED!  MY HUSBAND IS GOING TO BE SO ANGRY!  I AM SUCH A LOSER! WE ARE GOING TO GO BANKRUPT OVER BUYING A NEW DISH!
Now: Hey Andy, I dropped a dish.  My bad.  Keep the dogs out of the kitchen for a minute, okay?
Situation 2: I make a small mistake at work.
Before: THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER!  I AM GOING TO GET FIRED, AND MY FAMILY WILL ALL SHUN ME, AND I WILL BE A HOMELESS PERSON ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD WITH ONLY MY EMACIATED DOG FOR COMPANY BECAUSE MY HUSBAND DIED OF STARVATION AFTER GIVING ME HIS LAST CRUST OF BREAD. I CAN’T BELIEVE I MADE SUCH A STUPID MISTAKE!  THIS HAS RUINED ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING!
Now: Oh, oops.  Sorry about that.  I’ll fix it next time.
Situation 3: Husband is late coming home
Before: AHHH!  HE IS PROBABLY DEAD IN THE DITCH!  HOW AM I GOING  TO TELL HIS PARENTS?  WHAT WILL I SAY AT HIS FUNERAL? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH HIS HUNTING DOG?  HIS LAST WISH WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR THAT DUMB DOG TO HUNT.  SHIT, NOW I HAVE TO TAKE UP GROUSE HUNTING.  WHYYYYYYYYY?!
Now: His last patient ran late, or maybe his boss needed some help.  I’m sure he’ll be home soon.  I will eat a cookie while I wait.  Yum, cookies.
Do you see how different it is now!?  The aforementioned situations are not as exaggerated as one might hope; I’ve actually thought 95% of those things.  I thought them all in capital letters, too, just like I pictured here.  My brain used to be a pretty crazy place.  It still is sometimes, but it’s a lot quieter now.  It has at least gotten out of capslock.
Now I am enjoying my newfound fingernails.  I feel like a preteen girl who just got boobs: what is this awesome new body part that I have now?!  I’m going to paint them and file them and love them (I’m back to fingernails now, not boobs.  In case you didn’t follow.  I do not paint and file my boobs).
I hope you’re all having a calm Thursday night.  I’m sitting by the fire with my cat at my feet, and I’m loving the clacky sound my fingernails make on my keyboard.  Maybe I can be the hand model for one of those manicurist posters where someone shows off shiny nails while holding a rose or a violin.  A whole new world is open to me now.