Last night was the most utterly wrecked I think I have ever felt without just cause.
I did my best at doing nothing, which for me means to read. I read a lot. I started The Day of the Triffids – a sci-fi that is insanely popular (quite old) by John Wynham I think. I’ve read one his, the Midwich Cuckoo’s they are beautifully strange. I made it to chapter 3, fell asleep, woke up, read another chapter then gave up. I’m not kidding the book is really good, I just did not have any energy.
I got Dad to dig up The Shaping of Things to Come to inspire my lethargic self. I’ve wanted to read it for ages. I couldn’t concentrate. So I sat there aimlessly on my beanbag then moved out ot the hammock, I nearly fell asleep again although the dog woke me with periodic if not constant barkings.
By 6pm I had stumbled through dinner (yes the others have returned so I didn’t have to cook) while doing the normal hide it if you are feeling crap thing. Sat infront of the TV as it was far too light to sleep. Watched I Capture the Castle again with the others. I don’t usually bother watching movies twice, but it was sitting and passively observing.
Sleep was interesting. I was stuffed, but couldn’t sleep. Lay there for ages. Sat up on the edge of my bed in the dark. Got up when Emily left the outside light on. Yelled at her and went out and turned it off.
I could blame it on having been sick – whatever that was but part of it is to do I think with a conversation I had with someone the other night. Emotionally draining. I guess the thing is less that I am sad or whatever about it all, but more the fact that I have utterly no idea what to think and therefore do not know how to feel.
I am unsure and I’m trying to work out why it’s bothering me so much because I could very well remove myself at least a step or two away from the whole thing. I am unsure.
It took me several hours to sleep which made no sense as I was physically exhausted.