Not a remarkable day, as reported to, or seen by, anyone outside. It's only the details seen and felt from the inside which make much difference.
Less pain than usual on waking and |"surfacing", but more brain fog for some reason.
An interesting variation: stood staring at the morning's pills utterly convinced I'd missed out one of the set, as happens, only I couldn't decide which one it was because I hadn't.
It just took some time for one bit of me to convince another bit of me that such was the case.
When you know your mind's thinking is likely to be suspect, what do you check it against, and how, because apart from anything else the bit doing the checking might be, just at that moment, the bit that's playing up.
Or it might be the bit that's utterly confident that nothing is wrong.
This can fill a morning with nothing happening except the brain playing entertaining ping-pong with itself, or the fogginess can be such that there is clearly(!?) nothing to do except lie down and wait for things to improve.
This usually involves falling asleep at some point.
Gosh, what an interesting life...
Following that three "fives" spent on the railway solved two track problems, and solving such is a pleasant pastime.
Problem one turned out to be a very short stretch of track off the level, easily re-packed and checked with a spirit level,
Problem two turned out to be a slightly longer piece of track heavily slimed by slug-trail, which is actually unusual.
Not world shattering, but my world.
Small, rather confined, but mine, mine I tell you!
The jury is out on whether I'll last (by either enthusiasm or simply energy failing) to watch the Olympics opening ceremony.
That's a totally different world.
Out of reach mentally and physically, measured from where I am.
(That's the ME *and* the Asperger's!)
Never mind. I did so well today that it appears I'm going to be allowed to do the same tomorrow. Or something very similar, anyway.
For now there's no room for sweeping change or galloping ambitions.