Friday, April 4, 2014

WEARY OLD ME

Every residual injury shouts with pain, each cell hurts. Aspirin isn’t enough to block the discomfort signals in the brain which also aches. Problem concentrating on… the task at hand. Difficult to conduct an intelligent conversation. My body buzzes, not with the hyper hum of adrenalin but the negative frenzy of fatigue.

After almost two weeks of non-stop work and other responsibilities I am too tired to sleep. Overly sensitive to light, noise, smell, and vibrations. Eating constantly to stay awake even though I am not hungry. Caffeine consumed to the point that I have the jitters. I just want the agony to end but I must plow forward until I can rest.

Wrinkle and dark bags hang like lazy moons under my eyes. I don’t smile much but feel emotional. Irritability complicated by “riding the moon” an odd euphemism for menses. Watch the clock in anticipation of a restless nocturnal venture. The feather dance is illusive without a cat on my lap. Obsessed with finishing each consecutive task, three, two. Cursing when responsibilities are added which delay the rest time as I feel relief when completing the final chore of the day. Must drive home safely.

Increasing dependence upon lists as the week wears on. I am obliged to write the reminder on a piece of paper or it will flit out of my mind like a leaf blowing in the wind. Handwriting becomes illegible. Verbal blunders increase. Dreaming of a lax schedule, though there is always cleaning to do, cats to cuddle, people to see, job search to conduct, blogs to write and post, and books to read. Some days I just want to be a lump on the couch.

The first day of rehabilitation is about sleeping and cleaning the essentials. Cats and the kitchen appreciate a scrub. Second day of recuperation is reconnecting with friends and tiding the home. Third day includes reading, increasing orderliness, blogging, job search, and enjoying the spring-ish weather. Not fully recovered but well enough to tackle work the next day.

Clean for spring!
Copyright © 2014 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved

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