The itchy ache of progress

I've gotten so much work done today. And it really just took sitting still for hours and hours. With music playing and ready access to cool water and a nice warm jacket on, I have just been tackling it all like a champ. My back hurts so very much right now, of course. The sitting. The hunching. The never quite keeping both feet on the floor. I would like to take a never-ending bath, and I would like to simmer like a lobster. I won't be happy unless I'm all over pink when I emerge. A combination of bathing and braising, really. I would kill for that.

I sort of forgot to eat and just kept working. The TV was on in the living room for a good bit, but I had my music up louder than what was playing. It's all just stimulus. Even if I only catch it in my peripheral vision. It's good for me. For the same reasons that people put mobiles above baby's cribs. Maybe I will hang a mobile in my little office. But only if I can find a really stupid one.

For some reason, that reminds me of when we used to tie thread between the head and thorax of red baron beetles we captured in the wild of the Philippines. They would fly, and we would hold them on the string like a kite. It seems cruel now. And gross. What made me want to pick up some yucky beetle and dress it with string? We were filthy then. Eating guavas without washing them. Sucking on lemon grass we picked in fields. Lemon grass that was, in all likelihood, covered in all manner of animal pee. If you know me at all, you may have heard my explanation of why thinking about this would make me suddenly feel like having a good throw up. It's a fine line between tropical fruit paradise and pee-covered produce extravaganza. I wash every piece of produce I buy. Twice.

This is just proof that I have a lot of unruly short hairs.