Today's been an off day for me. I didn't get much sleep and I've been trying to talk myself into doing things. It's mainly resulted in me fumbling around the apartment doing some light chores and eyeballing all the things I keep telling myself I need to get done.
I wish I could feel less guilty about lazy days...er...weeks, and take the time I need to get my spoons back before I try to take on the world, or even our tiny apartment again. It never works that way though. All I see are the things I should be doing, or should have gotten done by now. I expend so much energy fretting about trying to take care of me instead of it, that it would probably be easier and healthier just to do it. That is if my list wasn't impossibly long.
Everywhere I look is a project that should be getting done in the time I've spent hiding under the blankets. It's really hard to convince myself otherwise.
I know my body needs the time right now though. I'm sick, battling changes in steroids, and fending off a flare. If only the tiny voice inside my head would figure that out.
The cat's been wrestling with Daisy's bed in the kitchen for nearly an hour now. He stalks, pounces, and rolls around the kitchen with it repeatedly. I think he's practicing to murder me.
I went into the kitchen earlier for a drink and totally had my mind blown. It's known that we all experience the same reality in very different ways. Just ask a police sketch artist. In general though, we can expect that we will experience reality the same way time and time again.
