The finger pads on my left hand don't have much feeling anymore. It's from playing the guitar. It kinda bothers me because callouses remind me of hard working manly men that perform heavy labor on a regular basis-probably involving large rocks and/or dirt- and that's SO me but NOT at the same time. But I can't even help myself. It's such a refreshing distraction from all the trash happening right now, and it feels good to be learning something new.
I can now play, with limited success, "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz, "Painting By Chagall" by the Weepies, and "Otherside" by the beloved Red Hot Chili Peppers.
I've thought about working out all day today, and still haven't gotten around to it.
Also. I've tried to convince myself that sitting on the stairs around the corner from where my mom was speaking to my sister on the phone wasn't eavesdropping. But it totally was. And mom still hasn't said anything about that conversation.
From what I heard, my family just got thrown into more chaos.
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