Gah! Failed to blog again yesterday, this being ill malarkey is getting right on my nerves. Madam and I had a pyjama day and didn't leave the house, which is where the blogging runs into problems as I can't post from home...
I'd been thinking on things on Friday evening and had come to some deep and meaningful type conclusions. I talked with my counsellor about how I would feel when I've finally got my life sorted and why it was so hard for me to get on and do it. And we came up with the whole I would have nothing to put in the way of my real feelings if everything was uncluttered/dealt with.
It's a bit the same with the crap in the living room, all that stuff takes up space and gives me a tiny area that 's actually livable, which is a pain. But I was wondering why I allow the space to get full and how it feels when the stuff isn't there. And the answer is the obvious one, well, it's empty. But empty is so very bad, to me. If there is nothing to fill the rooms with I become this tiny insignificant part of my own house. I am not enough, by myself, to fill a room. So I fill it with so much stuff that I can barely move around it and then I feel safer.
You can probably guess that I didn't finish what I'd started in the living room as I slightly freaked out, after my initial joy, and went into a bit of a poorly/panicky place and have done bog all since then.
It's crazy how much this cough is getting me down, I routinely have at least one chest infection a year and have done since I was a small child. So coughing is part of my daily life almost. There are short periods in the summer where my cough might clear up altogether, but it's always back before too long just to remind me of its presence. And most of the time it doesn't really bother me. It just sounds terrible. Right now though it's like there are knife blades in my lungs when I cough. And I can't stop so my whole body is throwing itself into the fray to try and get up this stuff sitting in my lungs. Which makes me ache, my shoulders and my back in particular... God, I'm a whiny so and so when I'm ill...
I've achieved very little so far today too... We did manage to get to church this morning and I managed to join in with the singing, though much quieter than usual... I also coughed almost constantly through it which elicited many enquiries as to why I wasn't in bed! Oh, how I wish I was, but lying down is making it worse atm, so that's a big old "NO".
It's Mother's Day next Sunday and I am hoping for a slightly sticky, very glittery and almost certainly wonky card :) She is a very creative little thing and does enjoy any excuse to be let loose with the glitter. And there are certain days in the year where I totally love it! Is that wrong?
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