Fighting the lethargy

I’m not feeling very pleased with myself today. I had plans, hopes of getting to grips with the cleaning and laundry, whilst doing some baking.

But it hasn’t happened. It started well with an overabundance of optimism, but the paprika stuffed my plans up. Or rather I stuffed the plans up with the thought I had paprika in the cupboard and only discovered I didn’t, when the shopping was done and the onions sizzling. It threw my timetable totally. It shouldn’t have done, but I guess I let it. And by lunchtime I had a headache brewing. It’s still brewing, like my shoulders and their dull ache. ‘Getting ill’ annoys me! You should either be ill, or not. Just wish my brain could convince my body of this fact.

But then, I’m wondering if I am really ‘getting ill’ or just inflicting the aches upon myself. I think I may be, as I’m experiencing a running tension. Like I was yesterday.

And speaking of yesterday – which I’m NOT doing today – I just wanted to say thanks to all of you, for your comments and thoughts. But I’m afraid that I’m not going back to that post and speaking individually to you, as Maureen is getting to know me so well she can predict what I’ll regret posting about. Nothing to do with any of the comments I hasten to add, it’s just I store stuff like this in boxes at the back of my mind and I find when I open them and dwell, I might as well be back there reliving it. And who the hell would want to do that?!

And whilst I'm describing storing memories, I came across a blog where the author described her mind as like a house, with different rooms for the collection of different memories. Unfortunately I didn’t bookmark the page, but in the days since reading it, the description has played on my mind (especially as the authors mind sounded like a nicer place than mine!) Most of the rooms described were beautiful with sunlight streaming in and colour galore, and the one room not liked, was sensibly locked.

But apart from my lack of imaginative DIY skills in the state of my mind, it got me thinking about many of us image these things, and I wonder how you did yours?

Like I said, for me, I imagine my past stored in boxes. Some are bright and cheery and at night when I can’t sleep I rummage through and smile to myself in the dark. Others get opened with a prompt, and I sit back amazed with the details I recall. And the ones at the back, again sometimes it’s a prompt, other times the cardboard rots and I’m forced to deal with the mess.

And days of the week affect me like this too. I am particularly fond of that US saying ‘hump day’ to describe Wednesday (of course you couldn’t say that in Britain, as people would imagine you were giving them too much detail ;o)). And thanks to quitting after-school swimming, Wednesdays are no longer my hump day, but the theme is right! I see the week as a mountain range, with some days a gentle valley and others a huge mountain blowing a gale. And then the months work like this too, but as more of an ocean (I suppose because nothing changes, it all just rolls along. Except for December which plunges like a waterfall – exhilarating as you’re falling down it, but don’t forget you have to swim up a hill in January and February.)

Does this sound odd? You can be honest…