Lent - not to be confused with the stuff in my bellybutton

Ah, the Lenten season is upon us.  I typically don't give anything up during lent because 1) I'm a horrible person and Jesus will likely scold me someday.  Then he'll give me a hug and tell me, "It's cool."  And 2) I really don't have many vices....that I am consciously aware of anyway....that would be good candidates to be given up.  Danny has decided that he is going to give up coffee for lent.  This worries me.  The boy drinks two pots every day.  Minus whatever I manage to steal from him when he isn't looking.  I am anticipating a painful period of withdrawal....headaches....rigors....seizures.  Well, probably not seizures, but it's not going to be pretty.  To make things worse, he is the sole producer of the coffee that I drink and he has informed me that he will no longer be making my coffee either.  I'm not sure why I have to suffer during his time of sacrifice.  It's cruel....and it isn't very Christian if you ask me!  So I will be visiting QT on a more regular basis for the next several weeks. 

As for me....I couldn't sleep last night, so I got up and watched TV.  The only thing that was on was Two and a Half Men.  I felt a little dirty after watching it, so I opened up the Bible and read for a bit, cleansing myself of Charlie Sheen.  I sat reading for about thirty minutes, chewing fervently on my fingernails when it hit me.  Nail biting....it's what I need to give up. 

Hi, my name is Christi, and I bite my nails.  And the skin around them.  I have been a life long nail-biter, much to the dismay of my mother and grandmother who have staged many an intervention on my behalf, and have made countless attempts at bribery.  There was a time that I managed to stop biting my nails, shortly after Louisa was born.  I wasn't even trying to stop.  Babies are just that time consuming.  I didn't even have time to nibble.  I managed to maintain this life-style for several months.  During that time, I was able to enjoy activities I had never tried before....painting my nails, opening soda cans, picking my nose with more efficiency and tenacity than I've ever known before!  That all ended in July, 2010.  My first month of internship.  The combination of a certain Hematology attending and the overwhelming, un-subsiding anxiety that comes with being responsible for human lives was just too much for my little nails to survive.  It started with one nail here, half a nail there....then it became an all out massacre. 

There was blood. 

Since that time, my fingernails have been nothing but nubbins.  And my nose-picking has suffered for it.

So there....I just spent thirty minutes of my life re-hashing the tumultuous tale of my fingernail woes...which will end on Wednesday.  Say a little prayer for me.

I'm not exactly sure what to do on Fat Tuesday.....