Tired

Yesterday afternoon, I stood up to do something, and I realised that I wasn't tired. For two blissfully energised hours, I stayed not tired. If I sat down, getting up was just a question of straightening out. Moving from one room to another just entailed picking feet up and putting them down again in slightly different positions. And when I reached my destination, I knew what I was supposed to be doing at it.

I heard every word of every sentence anyone spoke in my general direction, not phasing in and out of conversations. I coordinated a real proper several-steps-involved meal, and persuaded tLP to eat it. I piled Mog into bed and pyjamas and didn't feel lightheaded with the effort.

And then the fog rolled back in, and the vagues stole my thoughts, and someone or something strapped invisible weights back onto my legs and arms and neck and back, my ears were filled with treacle once again, and I was back to being tired.

It's been a long time since I wasn't tired. So long in fact, that I'd forgotten what normal felt like. I used to have energy. Getting up off the settee wasn't something I had to plan.

This will pass. Being in hospital, and then being home with a very reluctant convalescent who needs frequent attention overnight and full on attention all day is both tiring and thankfully temporary. Demousing the house was fairly full on too. Planning and hosting Mog's Marvellous Birthday Party was well worth it, but definitely added to gravity's already exceptional pull. Working to a deadline on a few minor projects has added to the brain fog. Its been a rough year for many reasons. I can see where it's all come from.

But still, I am surprised. Normal was good - how did this level of tiredness become my new normal without me noticing it? And what, short of abandoning the girls completely for a few days (not an option for several reasons) can I do about it?

In the meantime, kindly forgive the extreme "blogging lite" which has been going on lately. I'm just starting to realise quite how tired I actually am. Too tired to put that sentence in better order, certainly.

Must go, Mog's fitting (don't panic; it's normal. But I need to adjust her cushions so she doesn't bruise her arm on her bed side).

Tia