Foot Fetish: A Film by Quentin Tarantino.
I just washed my feet. I took my time and scrubbed between the toes and the sides and soles—a really thorough job. After that, I wiped them with a towel; put some lotion on them, and then wore socks. I really enjoyed that.
While I was running water over them, the voices in my head suggested that it would be nice (or at least interesting) to write about feet, so here I am. I need you to understand that there’s no purpose to this; no moral lessons or words of wisdom. I just want to talk about feet.
I also had a pedicure earlier in the day. It was nice, especially because I hadn’t had one in a long time. I came out feeling tender and clean and nice and smooth and — well, you get the point.
My fitness app says I walked 6,411 steps today. That’s just what my phone recorded. I think that the real figure should be somewhere around 8000. I walk a lot, even when I say I don’t want to. I can’t help the fact that I enjoy it. I like walking with people, I like walking alone. I get my best writing ideas while walking — or when I’m washing my feet.
I imagine how stressed out my feet must be from all that though, which is why I take time to really get in between the toes. I like to imagine that this compassion and sympathy for my feet is what Mary felt when she poured perfume on Jesus’ feet and wiped it with her hair.
Jesus washed feet too: the son of God got down and washed 12 pairs of musty, disciple feet. I like to think that asides from teaching them about humility, he also wanted them to remember that washing your feet when you’re in the business of walking is important. Our Lord and Saviour was big on maintenance culture.
For the past two weeks, I have had crazy pain in my hands. It has affected my ability to do certain things like text, write, and even open bottles of water. It’s been an issue I have been dealing with for a longer period of time, but it’s gotten worse recently. I fear that I may not even be able to write exams.
More importantly (in this context at least), the pain has made me pay more attention to other parts of my body - parts I had taken for granted. Like my — yes, you guessed right: feet! I keep wondering what would happen if I couldn’t walk 8000 steps again.
I have to go now, my hands hurt. I know I said there were no lessons but I do hope you take care of yourself. Wash between the toes, put on lotion, wear socks, and most importantly, listen to the signs. If I had listened to Munirah and gone to the hospital earlier, I probably wouldn’t be dealing with this crazy pain. Also, pretty women reading this, send me pictures of your feet if they’re pretty too. (Lase, if you’re reading this, it’s for science!)
Until next time, dear reader.
Oluchukwu.
