Writing tends to be an edge-of-your seat activity. At least, for me.
Like right now, I’ve got my legs folded under my bum. My nerves are tingling. My feet are asleep, and I know they’ll hurt and feel funky as a monkey in an ice cream sundae when I yank ’em out.
But I wouldn’t have them any other way. I need my knees to be like this. I like this position, and while it hurts, it works.
There are repercussions.
Sometimes, those come in the form of funny, waddling walks when I finally stand up. Expect a lot of grunting and mumbling. Leaving my writing behind makes me cranky, but the sleeping feet are just worse. They’re the monkeys in the sundae.
I don’t like monkey sundaes. Truth be told, I’ve never even had one.
But if they’re what I have to eat, to write, to do what I love, then so be it, eh?