Yesterday and so far this morning fatigue has been pulling me down and it’s just GREAT. I think I was too arrogant about my energy levels lately so it resurfaced just in case I forgot. The spoon analogy couldn’t have been more accurate yesterday for the amount of energy I had to give. I woke up knowing I was going to feel rough. I slept well but sleep doesn’t impact my body’s desire to sloth around. I had a bunch of things I wanted to do but it was actually nice outside and Oliver was pumped to go outside so I chose that. I knew that I would have nothing left afterwards, I hadn’t done any PoNS, and it would mess with the whole day schedule, but we wanted to go outside. I walked pretty decently until a block from home. Oliver said he wanted to go further but I told him I was knackered. “I don’t want you to be too tired.” I know buddy, neither do I.

Today seems to be going the same way. Help me to understand why I am so tuckered and needed to rest after having breakfast and then just tidying Oliver’s junk that’s all over the kitchen? It’s currently 9:30am, I tidied for 15 minutes (max). Can you imagine how frustrating it is to be able to perform a task for 10-15 minutes knowing that you won’t be able to fully finish before needing to sit down? I’m not tired as if I just did a 10K, my legs are tired so they flop around like a newborn calf, my arms feel like there’s 20 weights on each, and I guess I just love the floor. But I don’t. I want to get dressed, put my contacts in, clean up Oliver’s cluttered room, empty the dishwasher, maybe wash my face (a rare delight), brush my hair, do the regular things that people do.

I request more spoons.