OK, the invisible vampire got me.
I'd braced myself for that.
But his inviting an invisible boxer to work me over in the night was a bit much.
I'll file yesterday's activities, then, under "don't do that again unless you absolutely have to", but note both that such is available to me in an emergency and that I am in no way simply being lazy.

I know that anyway as there is so much I cannot do, but every now and then the doubt arises and I think I ought to be doing more, trying harder.
Maybe I need a lifestyle coach.  A snail, or a tortoise, perhaps.
As a pacemaker, in particular.
Since trying hard is counterproductive, it must be about trying hard not to try hard.
Which sort of makes sense in any universe where Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem works.
Where's Yoda when you need him?

Ah, well, one generally has to play the game by the rules and self-awareness, acceptance and pacing seem major ones for CFS.
Perhaps there's a bright side.
With enough practice I may be able to sloth for England.
(Despite the number of dedicated amateurs the country already has?)

My body is telling me to go and get a lot more training in.
I'm going to listen to it.