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My capacity for masochism appears to be limitless.
Despite serious efforts to do better at taking care of myself I am run-down and sick again after a string of late nights sorting out South America flights and various other things.
It's not insomnia; my body clock is just broken at the moment, jammed on not quite enough sleep.
So here I am, with a day kept deliberately free to get some much needed forest time now spent stuck at home. But to make me feel better my knee has mysteriously swollen up and jammed so I couldn't go walking anyway.
*headdesks*
I turn 34 in a week. Enough. This has to stop.
Despite serious efforts to do better at taking care of myself I am run-down and sick again after a string of late nights sorting out South America flights and various other things.
It's not insomnia; my body clock is just broken at the moment, jammed on not quite enough sleep.
So here I am, with a day kept deliberately free to get some much needed forest time now spent stuck at home. But to make me feel better my knee has mysteriously swollen up and jammed so I couldn't go walking anyway.
*headdesks*
I turn 34 in a week. Enough. This has to stop.
