Cooker feet

I think it is important to note that my feet used to have excessive temperatures, at bedtime, when I was younger.

Having the blankets and sheets tucked in at the end of the bed was intolerable. My soles were the root of all entropy. Observe:




The thought of having socks on was excrutiating. The mere thought, mind you!

It was as if, every night, I were entering the spirit/dream world via a fakir's firewalk, over hot coals and embers, except without the first, second or third degree burns.

I don't know, I guess it was my body's method of getting all therapeutic on my feet's asses. Maybe all of the abuse that we take out on our feet on a daily basis, it just really needed something like a soothing heating pad, like for an aching back.

But anyway, I do not need to have my feet exposed to fresh and cool air as much anymore. And I even wear socks to bed most nights. I am without resemblance to a fakir. It is a mystery.

This was important to write down.