… just completely and totally exhausted. HRH is fighting a bad cold, the boy is taking up every bit of energy I’ve got, and I have that restless-but-hermity thing going on. I’ve lost all interest in food and eating.

The rest of the birthday weekend was lovely. The picnic was enjoyable (despite the somewhat uncomfortable experience of the sad attention-starved little girl who insinuated herself into our group because her very-not-sober father was passed out under a tree) and it was good to see people just sitting flaking out in the shade, listening to the kids playing on the playground equipment, munching fruit and bread and cheese and such. Dinner with HRH’s parents on Sunday was also lovely. Thanks go out to everyone who came by or sent their regrets and best wishes, and for all the thoughtful gifts I received (organic nibblies! gift card for the bookstore! a very generous contribution to the 7/8 fund!).

My office feels much bigger with only one cello in it. I tried playing my 4/4 the other day and, as I was afraid, it feels clunky to me now. I so didn’t want this to happen.

I’m currently slogging through a freelance MS evaluation. I know what’s wrong with it, but I’m having a hard time putting it into words (saying ‘overwritten’ isn’t precise enough, alas). Also, what’s wrong with it is making it very difficult to read and get past the wrong to the story, which is, as far as I can tell, a good one.

The boy and I went to a bookstore today (gift certificate, yay!) and I picked up a book thinking it was one kind of thing, and started reading it to discover that it’s something very different. I wish I hadn’t bought it. I’m considering taking it back and exchanging it, except providing the reason of ‘I thought it was something else’ when I’ve read the cover copy thoroughly and flipped through it in the store is really, really lame. Still, a thirty dollar book I’m not going to read is a thirty dollar object taking up room on my shelf that’s needed for other books. This is what comes of (a) having a lousy mental focus (thank you and no love, fibro fog) and (b) shopping with a three year old who is clamoring to get to the train table. I am, however, really looking forward to the other book I picked up (A Romance on Three Legs by Katie Hafner).

Because we went to the Big Bookstore (With The Trains), as the boy calls it, we were obliged to visit the Big Animal Store in the same strip. I was partially looking forward to seeing the little Senegal parrot who stole my heart two weeks ago and partially dreading it, because I didn’t know if I could stand to have my heart broken again. I was both disappointed and relieved to see that it was gone. I hope it went to a good home.

We also stopped at the library to pick up a book I’d put a hold on which had come in: Wit’s End by Karen Fowler. I am very set for reading material. For the next two days, at the very least; I seem to be inhaling books these days. I suspect it has something to do with my need to turn off my brain to some extent, and the need to absorb someone else’s words. I also feel like I’m accomplishing something when I finish a book, which is something I sorely need when I’m down to functioning on inadequate energy.

So I’m muddling around, trying to keep up with the basic things that need doing, and feeling very flat about it all. And when I feel flat and inadequate I get irritated, and I’m very afraid I’ll fall back into the ‘going to bed mad because I didn’t do anything of worth during the day and waking up irritated the next morning’ thing, a rather destructive cycle in which I was mired five or sixish years ago. I think I need to get writing and creating again, which is a challenge because when the boy’s with the caregiver I’m working on freelance stuff for more immediate (and concrete) money (as opposed to working on something uncontracted which may or may not ever sell for theoretical money in the future).

I missed the boy’s thirty-seven month post on the 11th and I can’t see it being written any time soon, if at all. I also missed marking the three-years-at-home-as-a-family anniversary on the 13th as well. I’m so damn tired.

But I do have a shiny red and white bike on the back porch. Someday I may even put air in the tires and ride it. When the next chunk of money comes in we’ll buy the trailer so the boy and I can go for rides together.

There you have it. I’m exhausted and uncommunicative. The end.