Today’s the kind of day when I wish I hadn’t committed to writing something here every day for a month. But I did and it’s my choice whether to do it or not. If this is to be a year of changing my life, then I’d like to start with a success, no matter how small, so here I am.
I slept better than usual last night – no getting up for the loo or nasty dreams. My dreams were in fact cheeringly pleasant and I woke feeling relaxed. But not refreshed – my brain is like porridge and my energy level is very low. I’ve no idea why, but that’s ME/CFS for you – entirely unfuckingpredictable.
It’s in my mind that if I’m to measure my progress over the next twelve months I ought to record where I’m starting from and formulate some goals. That’s something to think about while I lie on my bed and enjoy the luxury of my neighbourhood being blessedly quiet this afternoon. All I can hear is the wind whistling and roaring, leaves rustling and a bit of birdsong.