Only six months ago, I wrote about how little I got done on a good day. Now, nearly every day I wake up in the morning, do stuff all day, then go to bed. Often I don’t pick up my Kindle or check Facebook until bedtime.
What I did over the weekend would not be remarkable for most people. To me, it feels like an amazing feat.
Friday: Wrote in the morning, went to the grocery store, cooked all afternoon, showered, attended a concert and danced (very aerobically) for an hour
Saturday: Up at 8:30, showered, cooked, packed, rode in the car for a two-hour drive Northern Arizona, chatted, hiked, hung out, played a game, stayed awake until everyone went to be after midnight
Sunday: Up at 7:30, showered, packed, cleaned, chatted, rode in the car for two hours to get home from Northern Arizona, lazed and read a bit, cleaned the kitchen, went out to dinner
Looks like a normal person’s life, right?
Showering did not cause me to collapse, nor did eating. My pain never got above a 4 and was mostly a 2. I took Midrin the two times the pain hit a 4 because I did want to miss the party. I was even with people I don’t know very well, which takes more effort and energy than being with good friends.
Ten years ago, I wondered how the life I was living could be mine. I barely left the house, wasn’t working and couldn’t even figure out who I was. Once again, I can’t believe the life I’m living is mine, but for very different reasons.