Wait, what? That saying just doesn't really translate well to the nail industry, does it? Well, you get what I'm driving at, right?

During the recent Pennsylvania adventure, the BF and I stopped in Dubois to visit with members of the BF's family — on his father's side. Which proved to be a very different experience from the portion of the trip dedicated to spending time with his mother's side of the family. I could do a whole blog about our trip, the purpose of the trip, meeting his parents' families, fireflies, and wild turkeys, but it wouldn't really have much to do with nails. Point being, we went out to dinner with the BF's cousins and aunt and uncle at the Dubois regional airport. Which is a very tiny building passing as something vaguely resembling an airport on top of a hill — never mind that during our entire evening there, there wasn't so much as a hint of a sight of an airplane.

What the Dubois airport did have, however, was our waitress Tricia, who happened to be the first person in PA that I'd seen after four days who had acrylic on her nails. Unfortunately, they were in pretty dire shape. Despite the beer and the food and the good company, all I could do was fixate on her nails. I wanted to backfill them puppies sooooo bad!

So, before we left I told her I was about to ask her the strangest question she'd probably get to hear all week — I asked if I could take a picture of her nails. I also explained that I actually do nails and that I write this blog and that I had every intention of posting the picture and writing about her. Which she was cool with even though she was laughing at me and wanted to make sure it was understood that she knew she needed her nails done.

But there's the truth of the matter; I just can't not be a nail tech. No matter where I am, no matter what I'm doing, there is no "clocked out" for me. If I'd had my kit, I'd have been doing a backfill in the Dubois airport.

That's just sad, isn't it?