I was in the shower and toward the end of my rituals, washing my face, lightly scrubbing and I must have gotten carried away. My pinky finger hooked my nostril in a jerky motion attempting to separate my nose from the rest of my face.
I have washed my face thousands of times. Never before have I committed such an act of self harm.
Suddenly I realized what a severe amateur I am in so many things. “Things” I have done hundreds or even thousands of times. All it took was a simple muscle twitch, an irregular stance, or a moment of daydreaming to crumble the foundation of decades of practice and preparation to maintain facial hygiene.