of a life. Today was a public holiday, so I slept until clawed by kitties at 08h00. Fed cats and birds, bathed for an hour, sort of reading. Out the bath, check mail, feed birds, more coffee, write down 5 jobs for the day. Start on first one by putting syringes in boiling water and detergent to soak. Have nap on couch as reward. Wake up, feed birds, sort out syringes (about 50) so that all are clean and working. Have nap as reward. Wake up, pick up 6 books and put in pile that need shelving. Move new TV cupboard into corner and unpack old one for Joyce to take. Put almost all contents into new places. Feed birds. Have nap cos I'm exhausted. Wake up when alarm goes, keep hitting snooze until kitty-begging becomes too vociferous to ignore. Feed cats, dog, birds. Rest on couch and consider another nap. Look at list and see I have done 2 easiest jobs and ignored all major ones. Rewrite list for tomorrow, knowing full well already that I won't do anything because I have to fetch birds at 10h00, deliver to new dad, see t-doc at 13h30...so will get home at about 15h00 - and nap on couch. How surprising. No reason for meds to be doing this to me, especially since we reduced the sedating ones and I stopped - voluntarily - taking the sleeping pills. So it must just be me, wanting to blur out as much as possible of both days and nights. Except that I really am physically exhausted by doing even small jobs. Walking up two flights of stairs means resting at the top for a minute or two while my legs consider collapsing, my head considers falling over, and my lungs try to remember normal breathing. Serious. Walking down two flights is almost as bad! Just shifting a cupboard that I slid on the wooden floor, no picking up, has left my arms sore two hours later. I don't think my mind has that much influence over my body. So maybe its me and the meds...a bad combo. Especially seeing as it is so not doing the happiness job.
What a waste. Of life, time, and everything else.