Half hearted effort...

This weekend was dedicated to pottering around and enjoying my own company.

I read, sat in the sun, examined flowers and was suitably impressed by the balmy weather that is currently sweeping through Sydney (consistently 23C days this week, people!).

Committing to pottering around meant that concentrating on anything mildly challenging (i.e. painting my nails for the week ahead) was hard.

As I crouched on the front steps, balancing my tea on the right and Arrowroots on the left, I blew at my long hair (which I couldn't be bothered to tie up) as it kept brushing onto my not-yet-dry nails. Layer upon layer went on, as I valiantly tried to restore the smooth varnished surface that presents from a successfully nail polished nail. About three coats later, I was pretty happy. My nails were a peachy pink shade and I congratulated myself with this photo:

In the process of taking that photo, I scraped my not-yet-dry thumb against the corner of my camera, and woe is me:

Oh dear, I considered as I slowly munched on an Arrowroot and inspected the damage. Ohhhh well, I thought , as I carefully stripped my thumb of its pebbly coat. I had time. I had sun. I had relaxation on my side. And so, as slow as a turtle, unbothered by it all, I started painting my thumbnail all over again.