imaginarycircus

I was supposed to head into Manhattan today to read manuscripts for my old boss. Just something to do so I feel like an almost normal human being and not a 90 year old shut in. But I woke up after sleeping for 9 hours and promptly conked out again for three more hours. (I took half an ambien and elavil last night.) Woke up again achey and on the verge of tears! yay! So skipping the trip downtown today. Since I was volunteering so it is not a big deal, but I feel really crappy about it. How am I going to work a full time job in November when I can't manage once a week now?

I am hopeful that the meds will level out by then and the physical therapy will help? I don't know.

David has been working such long hours and weekends and we haven't been to the grocery store in forever. We only have a CVS in the neighborhood (besides Bodegas that I don't even want to set foot in) which is only good for milk. We are out of everything except utter staples. I managed to throw together some corn muffins because we have polenta and flour and buttermilk. I was shaking as put them in the oven. But I did it! I'm torn because I'm pleased that I managed to do it, but really depressed that this the bar for accomplishment is so low for me right now.

I am not willing to set aside my life and the goals I had before I was diagnosed with fibro. But I think I am going to have to be more flexible about how long it takes me to accomplish those things. And I've been pretty lucky. I've already accomplished several things on my list: marriage, grad school, moving into a career I am passionate about (in progress.)

And my dream of climbing Mount Kilimanjaro might be beyond me, or I might be able to do it someday. But unless things change the snow won't be there...