Bank holidays. One of those days automatically deducted in my annual leave calculation. A day for banking..or not, as the case may be.
Up early to a sky that briefly threatened rain and then passed overhead without depositing any of its contents upon my head.
Stood in the doorway. Would have listened to the birdsong but the constant tapping of a dog down the road rather spoilt the mood. Closed door but still unable to drown the constant yap yap yap!. No idea who the owner is but their selfishness in allowing this 24/7 aural assault, is noted.
Mood soured, I made coffee. Coffee soured because I forgot to put sweetener in it.
Into living room. Check ipad has charged. Amazingly I remembered to charge it overnight and even more remarkably I remembered to put the lead in the right socket to charge it!. Ha! Things are looking up.
Read the news in the forlorn hope that something good has happened. Hope dashed swiftly as it’s the usual Coronavirus stories interspaced with celebrity this and that, which interests me not one bit.
Check email. My ‘normal’ email are a mixture of un enticing offers and enticing ones, holidays to far off shores…distant shores, distant memories. The future? Perhaps.
My junk mail is more exciting!. Sadie (23) wants to show me her cat…apparently, whilst mature Diane (51) seeks toyboy…something in which I must disappoint her as I no longer qualify!. Once more I despair of my junk folder and the utter dross that infects it. No matter what filter, nor how many I use, the stuff seeps it’s way in.
Work computer on. Check work emails. Not a working day I know but I log on every day. Nothing exciting there.
Write for an hour. 1400 words done on a work that will never be published that is now several works long and needs editing and pruning and rewriting and adding to and changing and altering and throwing in the recycle bin!
Mood not improved.
I forget then what I’m doing next. An ADHD moment. Think I’ve taken my pills today but have to double check. Forget to drink coffee.
The usual restlessness creeps over me. Fibromyalgia pain is moderate today so there aren’t painful spikes to keep me awake or let me know I’m alive. Both pleasing and frustrating at the same time.
The day is now firmly upon us. Move several boxes from loft to landing, reaching the limit of my stamina but knowing that there are a hundred times more yet to be moved before they can do the work in the roof.
Another coffee. Yeah I forgot to drink it again!.
Sit on sofa, this ancient, creaking, breaking sofa that’s seen better days. Like me it’s decrepit and falling apart at the seams.
Dogs still barking and the road outside is busier. A general feeling of uselessness and the general low self-esteem and feeling I’m fat and ugly, wash over me and put down roots.
It’s going to be one of those days. Again. A blue day. A bank holiday blue day.
There’s never a break from feeling blue.