It has rained every day this week, so we have literally been confined to barracks.
No gardening has been done, and the patio is unfinished. The grass is growing at an alarming rate, so that will need cutting when it finally stops raining. It seems that everywhere I look is a job that I can’t start or finish, and this has had a knock-on effect on my enthusiasm.
My get-up-and-go is still operational but becoming rather fussy. I don’t have the luxury of choosing what I do these days, and this reminds me of my school days. Luckily, I get to do a lot of work on the WIP and the new book is growing by leaps and bounds, although I feel more than a little conscious of the neglected workload.
I am not entirely dominated; however, that could never happen! and insisted on writing this post before I switched off the computer. I have been dodging a rather large elephant in the room, too, something that worries me a lot, but have always tried to avoid actually confronting it. I tried to write a post on the subject the other day and failed miserably.
What I really want to know is how and when do you know when old age gets the better of you?
I have been ignoring all those times when I forget something, for everyone does that sometimes, don’t they?
How about those missing moments times when, in the middle of doing something I do every day, my brain switches off, and nothing I do switches it back on? When everything in front of me is so alien I could scream?
I should add that everything works fine when I am writing, which seems odd, but I have been forced to abandon two crochet projects as I couldn’t understand the patterns.
I don’t ever want to get too old to do all the things that swim around inside my head, but I have a sneaky feeling that time isn’t far away. My body might let me down, and it’s doing its darn best, but I never thought the grey cells would let me down too…