A weird few days, not feeling myself. The days have gone quickly and everything has just sort of been more… difficult? For no particular reason. Maybe I’m just having a long, boring recovery from being sick. I’m always incredibly irritated by that. Just let me be sick or let me be healthy. Half-sick is the worst kind of sick. Not even half, just 15% or something. Look at me, just complaining about life. Sometimes it’s difficult to avoid being British—the world’s best complainers.
Head hurts.
Back hurts.
Eyes heavy.
Moving slow.
Behind on everything.
I should be thankful, really. I have plenty to be thankful for. There’s some sort of luxury in having plenty to be thankful for but choosing to loudly complain anyway. I’ve always had something to be thankful for, so I guess I’d never be able to complain if that was the rule, and what kind of life would that be? A good one, probably, but who can really say.
On that note, I’ll get off the internet, because I don’t think I’m going to find my joy here today. I think I might find it outside, or with my family, or laying down in a cool room for a moment. Really, almost anywhere but the internet.