I’m currently sitting in kitchen, my laptop resting on our dining table which also holds our dying basil plant and succulent that is… i guess fighting for life. j says “ton, ton” beckoning me to come to bed. i continue to type this as i feel that i need to for my sanity. my thumb is sore – is it my abductus pollisus brevis? – and as i remember that i’ve recently learned to flex my thumb muscles and find that distubing. the tips of my toes feel a sense of cold, as this temperature somewhat runs up through my tibia and rests in my knee joint, where it burns, which i interpret as pain. joint pain. i have it. or do i really have it? my eyes are straining, i’m relaxing these facial muscles that i find myself always tensing to increase the height of my glasses to my face in order to improve my vision.
i initially started this feeling peeved, annoyed, confused, and discouraged. it’s nice to learn how to be grounded. i feel the back rest holding up my scapula, the edges of my femur digging into this seat cushion. this seat cushion that sheilds away my sensitive skin that apparently is allergic to this straw that this chair is made out of so that welts form and a lattice like pattern is left on my skin where the pressures hits the most.