Put in a little extra effort at the office last night. Was entirely prepped for the Big 12 pre-game show - my sole Friday responsibility - well before quittin' time. Gave myself a little pat on the back for productivity and popped into Nini Nail Spa for the works.
Sipping on my afternoon soda.... on the receiving end of a vigorous foot rub... relaxation was at an all-time high, marred only slightly by Lionel Richie's greatest hits on loop in the background. (One can only take so much "Dancing on the Ceiling," you know?)
While typically I appreciate a meticulous nail technician, today wasn't the day for an extra top coat. I had a "very important" meeting to make. (Yes, quotes necessary. Because who really calls a meeting late Friday afternoon?) So against the sage advice of said nail technician, Kim, I skimped on the drying time and raced out the door.
Was I brave enough to don lime green paper flip flops into the office? It was casual Friday... Alas, rationality prevailed. (It was a frighteningly close call. But the thought of bumping into my male boss - a woman understands these things - and having to explain my uncouth choice of footwear seemed less than savory. I mean, I am a professional). So I sucked it up. I shoved my glossy toes back into the boots from whence they came. And I wasted thirty-five perfectly good dollars.