A bit of an odd week after the last nice blog. Here's the stuff I don't tell you all. I guess I am just used to living with it and no one ever knows unless I live with them. It's dysautonomia, an imbalance of the nervous system that can interfere with activities, sometimes whenever it wants to, so it's disruptive, but not pervasive like ME or CFS. I'll tell you more some other time.
It's been a drag to get out of bed this week because I'm back to having tired achy bones and they feel so heavy when I get out of bed. They bothered me yesterday and I spent the afternoon fidgeting in my seat.
Wednesday, my alarm was going off for 10 minutes before I heard it. Then I hit the wrong button and slept for another half hour. Woops.
When that happens, I just eat breakfast later at the office.
Had a headache in the afternoon, but mostly mid-morning was feeling nauseous enough to get sweaty palms. It had passed by lunch, so I managed to eat my hot wrap, which wasn't that great anyway.
Then my boss told me to go out and take a walk and get some fresh air!
When I came back I felt normal and she asked if I felt better, and I said "Yes, much better thanks!" with so much sparkle that she thought I was being facetious. But I did have a spring back in my step.
At about 4, she told me I could leave half an hour early. Valuable time because I had errands to run. I had made an attempt Wednesday but the shops I wanted were closed by the time I got there.
So today at Butler & Wilson, I bought a wee handheld mirror with finely worked enamel flowers and foliage and two ladybirds on the back. And so nicely gift-wrapped. They do that without asking.
A friend I have not seen in 18 years. When I was 10 or 11, we had an expat student from Japan at St Andrew's. She was so shy she did not speak.
This didn't work for the original girl she was assigned to, so she was reassigned to me. Our desks were in pairs, so we generally hung out in that configuration too, and Haruko and I were inseparable. We communicated by scribbling in our Rough Books, so we got through them pretty fast but the teachers were understanding as they knew H was too shy to speak.
The year I moved to America, Haruko cried a lot, and finally her parents sent her to a Japanese school.
A few years after discovering the Internet, I Yahoo!ed for her name, but there were too many directories full of people with that name. Then, last year she Googled my name and found me through my blog! :)
Oh lookie, I forgot to give you the Sikh wedding links from last month. Here, and then it's off to bed for me.
Or if that doesn't work:
Olivia signing off