Saturday and I wake up and stare into space until my partner rings me a decaf coffee. Its taking me a longer mthan usual to get myself going. My brain is befugged and feels as if it is on slow mode. The pixies that run my head are decidedly sleepy and appear to still be in their nightshirts and not sure which filing cabinets they should be opening, there is a lot of yawning going on in the frontal lobes. After a while I get up for breakfast, a delicious bacon sandwich, and the women’s world cup games. A voice nags me in my head to shift my arse but the football wins and my arse gets stuck on the sofa. Eventually I work up the energy to hang my washing out after which I need to sit for a while. I’ve a terrific headache so I down some paracetamol and get ready to go shopping for food with my partner.

We go to our local garden centre which hosts a good butcher and gather meat and pies for the weekend. As the restaurant was empty my partner and I indulged in scones and hot chocolate. having done our shopping we return home, I am knackered, almost spoonless. It is ridiculous that I can be so devoid of energy doing so little but that is how it is. How on earth I am supposed to exercise vigorously to avoid the drug side effects when I cannot raise the energy to sit upright on a sofa. I watch more football and when my partner brought my washing in I managed to get it put away and do my second set of vitals for the day. My vitals are consistently good, no adverse signs of raised blood pressure, heart rate good, SATs always in the high 90s and temperature normal. I make the effort to draft the blog so that I do not fall asleep over it late at night. I draft it to the background of Brief Encounter, it is impossibly English but coupled with Rachmaninov’s 2nd piano concerto it is the most perfect exposition of unrequited love. Akin to Pablo Neruda’s song of despair in which the the repeated line “In you everything sank” poignantly recalls the loss of reciprocal love. Brief Encounter of course draws its poignancy from the fact that the love is unrequited on both parties behalf.

My evening zips by in a sluggish way, with tea followed by Midsummer Murders. I can feel myself grinding to a halt so I down my night meds and go to bed early, or at least early for me.