With Doc Martens.
The way that floaty material feels blowing freely around freshly-shaved legs. Yeah yeah, I know, I'm buying into all sorts of traditional stereotypes of beauty and perpetuating oppression and all that by shaving my legs.
It feels nice. I like the feel of soft fabric swishing around my freshly shaven legs. It's all about how it feels.
I am a very tactile person, in case you didn't already know.
(please don't ask me why i feel the need to explain my desire to shave my legs in terms of my own view of what it does for me. there's a picture in my head, is all, of someone - a random symbolic feminist person - nodding to themselves and judging me)
How sad is that? ;-/
I'm very tired. It's been a rollercoaster month of ups and downs. This morning I found a fish finger under the keyboard of my pooter at home, and I went WTF? I have a friend who has a theory about neural pathways and the formation of new ways of thinking. Basically, he says it's similar to the way sheep tracks are formed - one sheep goes along, another follows, soon they are all going that way and an actual track starts to form, it gets easier to go that way than another way, more go that way, soon you have a sheep superhighway.
Yeah, you get the idea.
Anyway, my own formation of neural pathways is at the point where it's about 50/50 old track vs new track. I like the new track a lot better and will choose that if I'm paying attention. When I'm not paying attention, the familiar wins.
Either way, track building is tiring. I need more sleep these days. And more nutrition. I haven't gained any weight, but I'm not losing it any more either. I seem to have settled at 53kg. I like that. Odd numbers are always more fun.
This fragmented random post brought to you by Mary Stewart, who kept me up far too late last night. Damn her and her five-senses writing that makes time disappear!