My brain never ceases to amaze me, and if you think about it, it just shouldn’t happen. For at my age, 72, you would think I would know my own brain pretty well by now.
This week, Tuesday was the day from hell, at least that’s what it felt like. So hot, my energy lasted about thirty minutes. For the rest of the day, I hauled my over-heated, sweaty body around, trying to at least look as though I was working.
I gave up about 4pm, for by that time I thought I was dying. I had drunk copious amounts of water in an effort to stay hydrated in the extreme heat, so couldn’t quite understand why I felt so bad.
That night was worse. Just as hot, and what precious breeze we had during the day, had vanished, leaving the humidity climbing the walls. Not much sleeping was done, and it wasn’t for the want of trying either as I still felt ill!
At one point, I strolled around the garden in my nightie, pondering the possibility of sleeping out there. So blissfully cool and peaceful, I really didn’t want to return to my stiflingly hot bedroom.
Somehow the morning arrived, and the sun was not in evidence, so it was noticeably cooler. As I drank my first cup of tea, my brain produced one of its early morning flashes of inspiration. Not a new thing, you understand, but surprising considering the day I had yesterday. I do most of my best writing at that time of day.
It seemed to be firing on all cylinders, so I switched on the PC to explore the new found ideas that had appeared literally out of thin air. Then, supercharged with all the coolness and enthusiasm, I found myself in Waitrose at 8.30 doing a quick shop. Would there be no end to the surprises today?
I hope it’s not as hot today, as I have work to do!