I was sitting in my second meeting of the morning with my friend, K.

Meetings are always better when I have a friend there with me in the room (better, but probably a touch less productive). K is sweet and funny—lackadaisical but driven. I met her earlier this year, and we bonded instantly. She's just as girly as I am if not more, and I love getting goofy with people who uphold the same unimportant standards that I do.

K started an email to forward me a document. She remarked after several starts and stops that she was having trouble typing today. I looked at her hands with their fresh coat of shimmering burgundy polish. "Looks like it's time to cut the nails," I murmured drolly.

If looks. could. kill.

She eyed me up and down where I sat. All snotty, she spat, "Looks like it's time to wear something besides a dress."

I raised my eyebrow. "...never happen."

She raised her eyebrow. "I rest my case."

Indignant and both offended by stupid suggestions, we went back to talking about work.