I have been spending more time sitting on my writing chair lately, partly because that’s where I am happiest and partly because I am trying to ignore what’s going on in my head.
There is no sign of the results of my recent scan, although I am not holding my breath. I already know I won’t like what they say, whether bad or indifferent.
Luckily, I can hold the pain back each day with paracetamol so I can get things done. But the evenings are stormy, so I curl up on the couch and try to sleep. Most of the time, I am fighting back tears and my temper as my hatred for it all builds.
So, yesterday, when a laundry-changing day turned hilarious, I welcomed the chance to laugh at the situation and myself.
It was time to change the sheets on all the beds, and all was going well until I reached the duvets. The first one was no problem. (I have a system that works well for me, no more climbing inside! Something I learned on Instagram!)
The second duvet went in but didn’t fit, and no amount of pulling, pushing, or mindless flapping would make it fit. I sat on the bed, trying not to lose my temper and wondering what was going on. I had done this job a million times before.
It suddenly came to me right up to the moment I was about to rip everything to pieces. Anita’s duvet is six inches shorter than mine. I had literally been trying to put a gallon into a pint pot!
Moments like these have been happening a lot lately, leaving me in no doubt that I am either losing my mind or slowly descending into dementia. But at least they are amusing.
On the good side, despite my problems, the writing is going well. Lots of lovely words and ideas keep turning up. I am also reading and reviewing, so life has not totally deserted me…
Jaye Marie 💕
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