I am an easy addict. I pick up new obsessions extremely quickly. It is a curse that I grow out of them at an equally hasty rate, as it makes me a jack of all trades and master at none, but fortunately for you, it means there is a great chance I will finally stop raving about
nail polish after this third post on the subject.
I do not even know where to begin with the wonders of my new preoccupation. For starters, I have not been this academically diligent since my medicine rotation in year 3, because I have found that there is truly no better complement to a manicure than a textbook. It's not that there's nothing better you can do in between applying your second and third layers (in fact, typing/txting on iPhone is one of the few things I can do effortlessly without smudging my polish - whoever invented the touchscreen must've been a woman who enjoyed painting her nails), but the fact that it is such a waste of time - you are literally watching paint dry - the sheer decadency of those 5-10 minutes of otherwise idle waiting evokes a stronger feeling of guilt than any other useless interest I have ever pursued. And with guilt comes motivation, so at the end of the day you have nice fingertips
and knowledge of lamotrigine's side effects. Talk about an undecuple win. By the way, that's an elevenfold win - one win for each freshly manicured nail.