I wanted to do something yesterday, to accomplish something, to make things happen. I really did. Yet the best I could do, after waking up from more than 10 hours of sleep and eating breakfast, was to go back to bed and have a four hour nap. Then, after finally getting out of bed, I managed to do my laundry. By the time the laundry was folded and ready to put away, I was ready to go back to bed.
This need for sleep destroys so much of my day. I am certain it arises out of the exertion and energy needed to fulfill even the most basic of everyday tasks. Getting dressed, brushing my teeth, transferring in and out of my wheelchair, even the very act of sitting up; all of these leave me short of breath, sore of muscle, and just plumb wore out. Even typing is tiring, for God's sake. My fingers are tired, sore, stiff.
Right now I have been up for barely 90 minutes, yet my eyelids feel heavy. I could sleep once again, right now. I need to push past this if I want any sort of life, any sort of day. I need to drink some water, have a cup of coffee, eat some cereal or perhaps some prosciutto and cheese. I need to become active or sleep will surely overtake me. Yet I have no activity planned, no goal for today. I'm simply waiting for the hours to pass until I go to my trivia night; six hours, then I have something to do.
I have no plans for tomorrow either. At least I don't think I have any. I can't remember. Wednesday will be dinner with Kate, or at least it's usually that way. Thursday I have to go to the wheelchair store for repairs to my brand new armrests. They're going to want me to pay but I spent that money on my trip to Vancouver and groceries. Oh well, I'll get to it eventually.
I have all these open hours on my schedule, hours without a plan. At least I can fill them with sleep.
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