 Sighted up below the knee amputee and people often ask me if I forget that I'm missing a leg and my usual answer is no, never. But I woke up this morning, which is three and a half years after losing my leg. I like, you know, got up for my morning, oh, stretch. And this is where one of my feet, you know, the only one that's left ends. And I reached for this toe and I like reached for my other toe and for a split second, I was like, oh my God, where is it? Like it's very clearly gone. How does my brain still have these moments three and a half years later? I don't know. I kind of think it's adorable and weird.