The lurgy slammed me into the wall and I’m having a most terrible time dusting myself off.
What do you do when your motivation to do anything — anything at all — is at an all time low and you feel like your brain is full of cotton wool? Do you forge on in spite of yourself or do you give in and stay in your pajamas and fuzzy slippers?
I am physically better. The hacking cough is gone. The aches are gone. Yet everything in my brain has slowed like thick molasses. I find myself quietly looking at the bedroom wall for quite a long time before getting out of bed and I spend lots of time trying to talk myself into unloading the dishwasher or folding a bit of laundry. After exerting myself with dishes or clothes, I flop down on the sofa and look at the living room wall for awhile.
I went to the shed for the first time in two weeks. I sat down at the bench and just handled a few bits of silver and then made two ear wires. I put the torch away and returned to the house and held the cat. I think he feels very lackluster, too and I know he appreciates the scratching behind the ears and even a big smackaroo on his whiskers.
I took this self portrait in the car just before walking the dog. I put a little lipstick on for you. I think that shows some promise.