August 24

Nikki and I went downtown to get pedicures this afternoon. After sifting through the enormous stack of samples, I finally picked a color: a very light pinkish-brown with vague sparkle, which was a very, very tame choice for me. So I was surprised when, a little later, I noticed that the nail tech was painting my nails this very bright shade:

Nikki and I noticed the goof at virtually the same time, and we both started to speak up, but then I shook my head and decided to roll with it. No, it wasn't the color I'd asked for and yes, I absolutely could've asked her to start over with the correct one, but as I told Nikki, "it's just nail polish. It's just not a big deal." So bright, electric pink it is.

I thought about that remark when I got home and about how easy it was for me to brush off the tech's mistake; how simple it was to turn what could've been bitter lemons into lemonade. And it served as a good reminder to me --a huge perfectionist who stresses far too often over far too much-- that life is better when I decide not to sweat the small stuff.