I've been wondering why I've had no energy--and I mean none--lately, when lifiting my fingers to blog doesn't seem worth it, when I think about the bending and tap tap taping of fingers and am tired just from the thought of it. Mild anemia is the only thing that came back in my bloodwork, which is good news, really anemia not being uncommon in old worn out ladies like myself. I can't help but think of my sisters and brothers with, for whatever reason, severe anemia, and nod a silent prayer their way, because if this is what mild anemia makes you feel like, well then I don't want to ever know how the severe end feels. I take good vitamins with iron that have helped keep me healthier than I've been in years (notice long passage of posts since I've complained of a sinus infection), and those better-than-usual-for-me health habits are probably why I'm still in the mild range, but I'm going to get some extra iron this week to add to the mix because I am so stinking fricking fecking tired I could sleep and sleep and sleep, except that I can't because I have to work.
I was thinking about sleep the other day and I told George that if someone gave me permission at that very moment to go to sleep and just not wake up I'd take it. It's not so much a death wish as a sleep wish. At that day at that moment, nothing mattered more than rest, and not just a nap kind of rest, I was talking a long rest, a truly unconscious state from which I only imagined I would wake refreshed.
I had a bout of feeling refreshed yesterday. It scared me. Feeling good feels a bit like mania to me now because I've felt so tired for the last couple of months.
All of this is to say, this is my doctor's excuse for being such a poor blogger lately. Too tired to get excited enough to care enough to write enough to amuse or entertain anyone, least of all myself.
Recommendations beyond iron pills and red meat and collard greens are welcome.