Last night I dreamed I was renting my own hands

I'm standing at some kind of counter, and the clerk slides two hands across to me — my hands, but itemized on a lease. I sign, and all night I'm doing calligraphy with borrowed fingers, and the ink keeps beading up like water on wax. Woke up and my wrist actually ached, the way it does after a long day of real work. I don't know what my body is trying to tell me, but I've been staring at my own knuckles all morning like they owe me rent.