I interviewed with a non-profit this morning. Four days a week, Tuesday to Friday, upstairs from a methadone clinic, less than an hour away by bus. I won’t know how it went until the end of the week, when they contact me to say yea or nay, but it seemed to go well. Fingers crossed and all that.
Speaking of fingers, I cut the nails on my left hand today to better play the guitar. Most people would find that mundane, hardly news, but I am odd about my nails, I keep them sharp and long. It’s potentially only the second time in my adult life I’ve purposefully trimmed them. Now my fingertips feel downright bizarre, as if I’ve done something considerably more drastic. More than that, it feels as if the nerves under the newly bared skin aren’t sure how to fire yet. I find myself flinching away from touch. It helped, though. Although my fingers still feel like the fattest sort of sausages, I’ve been successfully playing some chords.