After another semi-long bout of illness (pericarditis, flu and strep) which knocked me on my ass for about ten days I am trying to get motivated to do something other than sleep or lie sleepless. The world (my tiny little world of dull responsibilities) always implodes when I am immobile. Yesterday was the first day I felt okay enough to get something done so I started working my way through the giant pile of sickness laundry which is the grossest thing ever. The fevers peaked and broke for days and days. At one point my fever registered 105.2--no shit. So there are many sweaty pajamas to wash. Last week the Everybody-Loves-Raymond-Cardiologist asked, "Do you have any luck at all?"
I have not written anything or read anything. I need something wonderful to read now that I can hold my head upright for more than a minute and I think with a really good book things might look a little better. I am going back to work tomorrow (again) so hopefully I will not feel like hot garbage in the morning.
I keep thinking I can somehow structure my life so that I am DOING MORE but this is challenging as I find that I need a significant amount of sleep to function (I often go to bed at 7:30 to get up at 5). It's the creative stuff that gets ignored because somehow it gets pushed down below the bills and the parents and the laundry and work and those things don't go away as my Sisyphean dreams remind me often. I have written a couple of poems. Not many. I don't know how everyone else is so productive. I know the illness and fatigue are part of it, but sometimes it seems pointless but of course it isn't it's just so hard keep going.
Not terribly upbeat today, but I might make some soup. Soup is EVERYTHING.
Me, mid-July 2018
1 day ago