Micah and I half fell asleep sitting on the couch. Long talking into the night. It is and was good. Solid. Honest. These sorts of friendships are important, and not something I take lightly.
My tattoo oozes a little blood. John, the artist, commented once on how little I was bled during the work. Perhaps because my feet have poor circulation, especially in the cold. My legs did tremble a lot, and it had much to do with the sound.
Oh, and how I do understand the addiction now. It hurts and it doesn't, this sensation I can't adequately describe. Fascinating. I lost all track of time. It might have been fifteen minutes, it mght have been three hours. Micah said I would widen my eyes sometimes, in a most alarming manner. I wish I could have seen myself. I tried very hard not to watch what was happening.
I'm going to work in my slippers tomorrow. No one will stop me. Though I am tempted to go out and buy a brand new pair of shoes.
We ate cheesecake, drank coffee and played cards. I treated myself to a giant almond cappucino. A day totally out of time, and of much joy.
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