Paint the nails

After gathering a bottle of red polish, swabs, and a small brush from one of my new chest of drawers, apparently one that once belonged to my new legs' original owner, I hopped up on to my bed and went about giving my dainty new toes a fresh coat of red paint. As odd as it seems, without any thought on my part, I kind of slipped into a weird auto-pilot kind of mode as my hands went about applying the polish. With small, precise strokes, and a little bit of blowing between toes, I had my toe nails ruby red in no time flat. I couldn't help but smile as I looked over my absent-minded handiwork. After letting them dry and removing the cotton from between them, I hopped up and looked at them again. "Not bad, not bad at all!" I whistled. My smile faded as I FINALLY began to think about what I'd just done! Without thinking about it, I'd done a fairly complicated, lady-like activity like some kind of robot! Did my legs have a mind of their own?!?! And how much say did they have over what I was doing and how I was going to live my now irrevocably altered life?!?!? Troubled, and tired, I climbed into bed and did my best to try and get some sleep, despite now having some very disturbing life-changes to ponder. That night...