I cancelled just about everything and have been prone for most of the day. I did make it to ballet this morning, but I’m not sure that was a great idea as I ache all over now. Still, I’ve taken some extra strength paracetamol and am off to a choral concert with my sister. Hopefully, it will prove soothing.
The trouble is, my 18 year old son disappeared just as I was about to leave and now my 12-year-old is at home alone in her sick bed. There are no good mum points for that, but I am hoping he nipped out to the shops…his phone is kaput so I cannot contact him.
So, I am feeling guilty and slightly unwell. I am hoping to get a text very soon to say the son is back in situ…failing that, my husband should be home from work shortly. I have not cooked supper or walked the dog. I would have done those things had I not been reclining all day long…
I hope my energy levels return soon as I haven’t done all my Christmas shopping or wrapped a single gift. It’s always the same. I hit the buffers every Christmas and limp into the new year. Perhaps it will be different in 2019.
I filled in the application form for my year long spiritual mentoring programme today and it has highlighted just how incredibly fucked up I am. Still, that’s as good a starting place as any I guess.
I created this creaky reality.