Free Will and Toe

This is a tale of free will, and not having it. And because it is a short tale, a digression by way of the toe.

Alternatively, I could begin with the toe. And then digress to free will.

After all, it's up to me.

I have a sore toe. It's my right middle toe, which I injured walking home from the city on Friday in unsuitable shoes. On Saturday, I protected it with a Bandaid.

My tale begins at bedtime. No, just after. I am in bed and ready to fall asleep. Then I remember that I still have the Bandaid on my toe.

I am a person who believes, probably wrongly, that it is better to take a Bandaid off at night to allow the air to perform its healing work. My theory is that no harm will come to the injury in bed.

So, I'm lying in bed, picking at the edges of the Bandaid on my toe. Of course, I don't get anywhere. I can't even find the edge of the Bandaid. After a few more fruitless pickings, I'm
thinking about getting up, finding the nail scissors and snipping the Bandaid off. Then I'm thinking that it doesn't really matter if I don't. Because I don't want to get up out of bed.

Next thing I know, I've turned on the bedside light and I'm standing up looking for my nail scissors. Blow me, I think. Where was my free will in this?