Day 85 – Day off

day off

I’m taking today ‘off’.

I’m on sick leave to technically I’m taking every day off.  But I’m taking today off from the web project.  There are a few bits a few bits and pieces I could do.  And I was complaining that I don’t get enough time, but I’m tired.

I’m tired because I didn’t sleep well Sunday night.  I had a belly ache, ice cream and the medication I’m on turned out to disagree with each other.

I’m tired because I didn’t sleep well Monday night.  I slept at my sister’s house to do the school run this morning and I often don’t sleep well in a strange bed.  Also, though her little dog is quite sweet and loves to sleep at my feet, he’s no substitute for my cat.  And my husband.

After the school run we went to the gym, I swam for 25 minutes.  I’m am so excited to be exercising again.  I imagine the water slipping over my rippling muscles.  Well I can feel the water rippling over my skin, the muscles are still a dream at this point.

Then we went to get some groceries.  We were standing in line at the check-out and I realised how tired I was.  I told my husband, who reminded me that there is a reason I’m able to go to do the shopping in the middle of a weekday.  I’m not at work.  Because I have cancer.  And I’m supposed to be resting.

So I’m giving myself a day off.  Which means after deciding to do that I finally had breakfast at 12pm, then spent 2 hours making green juice packs and putting chicken cacciatore on the stove for dinner tonight.

I’ve missed my calling.  I should have been an over achiever, but I turned out to just be a very good busy person.

It hasn’t helped.  I am sick, my financial situation is precarious, I’m having a career crisis and I’m medically infertile.

Also, I’m turning into that person who tells anyone younger than them that they should enjoy [insert whatever they are complaining about] while they can because they’ll get to a point where they don’t have as many options.

That sucks.

I really don’t want to be that person.

I don’t want to tell people what to do, and I really don’t want to actually believe that my options are dwindling with age.

They are certainly changing, but I don’t want to be the whingey cow who thinks my life is shrinking.

It is technically.  All of our lives are shrinking in terms of time.  I’m find with that.  But I want my reaction to that shrinkage to be acceptance.

I like being busy, but I want to be busy with more purpose.

I don’t mean I want



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