Last night defined the word “exhausted” for me in clear, bold letters.
I am still baffled as to what happened, but after the beach I was half awake during a game of kalooki and by the time I got home I had just enough energy to fall right into my bed. My every body part felt as if it had gone through some sort of massive exercising routine – I refuse to believe it was from the few hours I spent at the beach. (When I say few I mean not many.) I literally could not move, and my dramatic imagination took off in full flight. “Oh my gosh, I am dying. Tell my parents I love them.”
I have a way of worrying about every little unusual incident that occurs, and by that I mean with my body. I have always been healthy, but with all of these new sicknesses emerging and my anti-doctor and medicine ways I sometimes fret a little. These two perfectly aligned pygmy bumps on my wrist that came out of nowhere and just sit there without itch or irritation have been taunting me since their appearance. They are not red, they do not hurt, and they won’t go away. I try to just ignore them.
Needless to say, all of my plans for last night were abandoned. I also realised that extreme exhaustion feels similar to being drunk. I say that because I cannot remember any part of my 48 minute phone conversation, and I am relating that to stories of drunk dialing. Luckily, the person I spoke to leaves me with no worries.
Anyway, you’d think that after getting so many hours of sleep, I would be well rested and energized today. Well, if you were able to see me I think you would form a different opinion. I am currently laying in bed again after waking up from a short nap; my fingers are having trouble with this typing, and my hands just gave in and dropped my phone on my face.
On that note, I end today’s blog. Wish me luck at the beach today.