My thumb is mutating. Maybe I'll call it X-Thumb and it can have its own comic book. It's no longer as painful, but it's gotten very swollen and lumpy. It really looks like there is a second thumb growing inside, trying to get out. That's sort of disturbing. Joanne assured me that I needn't worry about amputation because of the high quality of modern prosthetics. She cited the movie "The Piano". That's very reassuring, Miss Future Doctor.
So, because of my mutant thumb, I wasn't able to play with "the band" today. In lieu of that, I took down the Christmas lights (a good activity for a balmy February afternoon) and walked down to Solano and back for no real reason. Later, I used the power of the Internet to determine that I had gone about seven miles, not counting the vertical distance. ("El Cerrito" translates to "the little hill", but there are many hills here, and they are not little. Then again, that's not nearly as much a misnomer as "Los Angeles".) In any case, it was a bit of a walk, but if you average it over my last three weeks of sedentary I-left-the-house-once-to-buy-milk living, it don't look too good. I think I still fall into the "inanimate object" category. I am a living still-life.
Meanwhile, as I grow further rooted to my computer chair, my thumb develops psychic powers and the ability to manipulate magnetic fields. Now if I can just harness my mutant powers to telekinetically get milk, I'll never have to leave the house.