Monday, 4 February 2013

It's that Wind Again

So it's 4am and here I am awake again - I could blame the cat - I usually do - but it's been over an hour since she woke me and I'm still here - wide awake and needing something to do to stop me 'spinning' (that's turning over and over trying to find a comfy position and failing miserably).  The wind is howling outside, which isn't helping, I'm too tired to read a book, my shoulder is hurting if I lie down and there's a mystery pain in my lower abdomen.

Reading other people's blogs doesn't seem to work as a therapy either - in the last half an hour I've semi convinced myself that I may have been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia but whatever it is I've got fits the diagnosis for Chronic Fatigue and ME as well, it just depends which day you ask me. 

Up until last weekend I was doing well with the exercise video I bought just before Christmas - My Fitness Coach - I got it from a second hand shop in Barnsley and it's been good.  I had been getting a bit fed up with the stop/go of Wii Fit (also bought second hand two years ago) and wanted something that did more yoga.  Well, I've got that.  My Sun Salutations are now quite evenly paced, I look up from the floor and I'm in time with the coach and even my breathing seems to be going in and out at the recommended rate.  Unfortunately I came down with something - tiredness, weepy despair, grinding fuzzy blankness, it's hard to describe - last Monday and I'm still not right.  Yesterday it was sunny and I managed an hour and a half in the garden, I didn't do much of any use - tidied up my baby onions ...

ooophs, hang on, the cat is scratching the wardrobe door - back in a minute - no not her tray, she's got food left, clean water?, just wants me to lie down?  dunno ...

Where were we? baby onions, ah yes.  And I planted the rest of the left over bulbs, if you can call throwing them in two old plastic troughs and ladling soil on top planting.  The troughs are still in the middle of the vegetable plot - once they were full of soil I couldn't move them anywhere else.  Then we went into town to get a few things and the OH thought it would be a good idea to walk to Morrisons instead of moving the car.  Ahh, mmm, maybe not.  Painful knees and stiff ankles now to add to the mystery finger cramps and knotted, stabby, minimal movement shoulder.

Anyway - no proper exercise for over a week now - and lots of episodes of sitting on the edge of things just blank - staring at nothing and too tired to move.

I have to go to the Cudworth History Group in a few hours (10am to 12 noon) because apparently last week when I just couldn't motivate myself to go the ones who did attend had problems using the Access cataloguing application I'd done for them, despite my lovely user manual and three weeks of sitting - with minimal intervention - with them whilst they worked from it.  I'm trying to avoid calling this emotional blackmail, but honestly that's what it feels like - was I supposed to let them carry on doing twice as much work using an old Works 'database', ha!  The Access one lets them save the picture(s) in the same file as the description and the form is THE SAME as the old one.  It is, it is, it is ... Grrr!  The fact that the numbering system for the images is a complex nonsensity is not my fault - someone else dreamt that up long before I appeared.

Cat now sitting on my lap with her head on the touch pad of my laptop.  That way she gets stroked while I'm typing - devious beast.

The Open Uni module I'm doing is a monster (Understanding Global Heritage) - the best thing about this year is the Facebook group - we all have a good moan about the idiocy of setting us an essay plan task on a course book that we'd only read the first third of, which expected us to 'skim read' the rest of the book in order to do a decent plan.  My mark was OK, but some of the others haven't done as well I see, the OH says I should help the ones who are having trouble, but I don't want to stir up things, I hate arguments.  Keep my head down, keep quiet, don't cause a fuss.  At least the regional office had a rethink about asking me to provide a fresh letter from my GP as evidence for needing to type in the exam - that's £20 I don't have to find this year.

Cat has retreated to the feet end of the bed to have a wash, that's better, the OH is having a spin of his own, but my early morning typing never wakes him up.

Shall I try lying down again?  5am ... I suppose I should.

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