Sunday was of course a rest day, with third round FA cup football matches to watch after I had lazed in bed in the morning. With my vitals taken and my morning meds taken I was alone in the house as my partner and eldest daughter went off to the gym. With some time to spare before the football I drafted a letter to the reviewer who had reviewed my collection, The Cancer Years: So Far, thanking him for the kind and unexpected review. I wrapped copies of the two further collections in the series in bubble wrap and prepared the package to go tomorrow. Not sure what to expect, perhaps nothing, but I thought the guy maybe interested in the development of the series. He may not of course give a toss, so whatever it is, I will live with it. With that done am ready for for a good football game and I got one.
So after extra time and the thrill of a penalty shoot out it was time to eat and continue watching the series Blindspot. It is coming to and end thankfully as the story line is becoming more comic book as the writers struggle to get to an ending that could be feasible, I fear it is a series that has got beyond them and I sense an inconclusive ending. Its all fantasy to bed time, night meds and the final clearing of the kitchen before I get to bed.
Monday and I wake after a good nights sleep to my partner up and busy, She brings me hot water as I take my vitals and organise myself. Breakfast is simple accompanied by my morning meds, and then I am off to the post office to send my package of letter and books to the reviewer at the Lancet who reviewed my first collection. There is a bit of a stumble at the post office as it turns out that I have not got the right post code on the packet. I get it sorted with the help of the post person and return home with a paper.
On returning home I get my washing into the machine and settle down to do the days crosswords. I zip thorough these again as my washing chugs away until its time to go out for a snack at lunchtime. My partner drives us to a small garden centre where I can indulge in hot chocolate. I am not very chatty, today is an effort but I get through the snack and walk round the the rather run down garden centre, including their cut price Christmas decorations. I miss a call from a friend but catch up with the voice message later. Having bought nothing we drive home where I shove my washing into the tumble dryer and then take time to catch up drafting the blog. This is being one of my mundane days, where everything is an effort and I am short of energy. By half past three I am ready for a chunk of panettone and a go of my partners eye mask sauna.
I slide into the evening and while my partner is at her singing lesson, half way through my football match the Tesco delivery arrives, so I am solo taking in the weeks goodies and playing squirrel. Post squirrelling my partner and I watch more of the increasingly improbable Blindspot. So I drift into night meds and an early night. Its been a day of sluggishness and a sort of itchy scratchy ill contentment, feeling like I am surrounded, tomorrow I shall train it out of me.
