...and running on about half the target schedule: two hours off for every five minutes on, approximately.
Not my choice, unless I count my body as "me", in which case it's my choice.
"I" is very tricky concept, except typographically.
When I'm stuck on some cryptic crossword clues I find I've often solved one or two while I've been asleep.
So there's an "I" that wasn't asleep? Start thinking from there.
Things done today: a few postings to a support group, a checking of e-mails, and here.
One piece of balsa *half* cut to shape for a model railway loco. One missing parcel tracked down by phone to the local delivery office.
No TV watching, no gardening no DIY, no Skype conversations, no paperwork or housework.
But I can have better hopes for Saturday, for being back up to 8.3 % living, give or take a few percent.
Today wasn't a bad day, just one loaded with a response to being weary.
From an hour or so with a visitor, two days ago.
It's hardly a labour of Hercules, is it?
Except this is the reality concerning what can scale out as Herculean, with CFS.
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