It is Friday morning, and it is going to be hot here in the San Fernando Valley, unseasonably hot for early April. We are talking 99 degrees before noon. I have taken my morning pills, vitamins, had my low-calorie breakfast, put on my support socks and the rest of my clothes that will keep me somewhat comfortable inside our air conditioned house.
Every morning I wake up hoping that this will be the day my energy will return for all the pending tasks needing attention. And every day I go to bed having fallen far short of my own expectations. Even the simplest things like folding laundry and putting it away have morphed into monstrosities that refuse to be tamed. I have books that need reading (not just for pleasure!), a number of quotidian tasks that should be undertaken, and my level of enthusiasm and energy for such tasks has deserted me. I feel a sense of accomplishment when I can get the dishes loaded into the dishwasher before I go to bed. Such a small thing!