The guilt hit me at the checkout counter.
A place that once felt like a sanctuary suddenly carried a quiet, nagging tension. I still loved the soft music, the careful work, the small ritual of watching my nails transform. But as prices crept up, one question kept tightening in my chest: what is “enough” to tip without shortchanging someone’s effort—or my own budget? I wanted to relax, but instead I was doing math, second-guessing my choices, and wondering if I seemed ungrateful. That tiny moment at the end of each appointment began to overshadow the peace that came befo… Continues…