I open my eyes and roll over. Whoa! My body is in full revolt. Not a single muscle intends to cooperate. Everyone is on strike. I try again to get up, but immediately admit defeat and lie back on the bed, too tired to barely breathe. OK. I shouldn't have pushed through yesterday. Today I am completely wiped out. I know I will not be able to get to church or anywhere else.
My kids know I am really in a pickle if I am so tired I don't go to church. That may even be more serious than the famous line "if I weren't so tired I'd go to the bathroom." The boys check in, concerned. There is nothing to do but wait until my body recovers and can function. I embrace my limitations and decide to enjoy lounging around doing nothing. I stare at the dirty dishes in the kitchen and ignore them. I think about picking up the junk mail and tossing it out, but I leave it lie right where it is.
Instead, I curl up in the blue recliner, wrap the blue afghan around me snugly, close my eyes, and let my mind wander while Sugar stares at me, concerned. I can go anywhere my head wishes to take me and usually I am off to somewhere I would love to explore - Jerusalem, the Vatican, touring monasteries peppered throughout the world, lying on a warm sandy beach sipping a cool drink - the possibilities are endless. Or I can work on that novel I have been writing in my mind for the last few months. But today, I barely start to dream and my mind shuts down. Interesting. I don't think I have been too tired to dream for quite some time.
Sigh. I spend the day dozing, nibbling (thank God for the plethora of tasty food people brought by!), dozing, watching mindless drivel on TV, dozing, dozing, dozing. I am too tired to really sleep deeply, but bit by bit over the course of the day, strength returns and the shaking stops. By bedtime, I think I can manage sleeping and I gratefully fall back into bed at 9:30. Hopefully tomorrow I will be able to manage work. I think so. Just nothing too strenuous.
My kids know I am really in a pickle if I am so tired I don't go to church. That may even be more serious than the famous line "if I weren't so tired I'd go to the bathroom." The boys check in, concerned. There is nothing to do but wait until my body recovers and can function. I embrace my limitations and decide to enjoy lounging around doing nothing. I stare at the dirty dishes in the kitchen and ignore them. I think about picking up the junk mail and tossing it out, but I leave it lie right where it is.
Instead, I curl up in the blue recliner, wrap the blue afghan around me snugly, close my eyes, and let my mind wander while Sugar stares at me, concerned. I can go anywhere my head wishes to take me and usually I am off to somewhere I would love to explore - Jerusalem, the Vatican, touring monasteries peppered throughout the world, lying on a warm sandy beach sipping a cool drink - the possibilities are endless. Or I can work on that novel I have been writing in my mind for the last few months. But today, I barely start to dream and my mind shuts down. Interesting. I don't think I have been too tired to dream for quite some time.
Sigh. I spend the day dozing, nibbling (thank God for the plethora of tasty food people brought by!), dozing, watching mindless drivel on TV, dozing, dozing, dozing. I am too tired to really sleep deeply, but bit by bit over the course of the day, strength returns and the shaking stops. By bedtime, I think I can manage sleeping and I gratefully fall back into bed at 9:30. Hopefully tomorrow I will be able to manage work. I think so. Just nothing too strenuous.
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