I remember at one point not all that long ago having this mysterious substance called energy. I think I got a hole in my fuel tank because energy is a very rare commodity. Today my BIG, HUGE accomplishment was getting dressed and going to the store Right Next To my apartment building. It is so close I can see the back of the store from my window. I managed to roll there, with a stop to rest once I got inside the store, and get basics to stock my cupboards and fridge for the next few days. Coming home was easier because the rear driveway of the store is a HUGE slant, and the very best part of the exhausting trip. I perch at the top of what is basically a launching ramp and check carefully for traffic on the side street at the bottom. Thankfully this is small town Michigan, so traffic is rare and I can spot any vehicles easily. Then I eek my chair out over the edge of the driveway and throw my arms up in the air. At the bottom of the downward trajectory is a double bump of curb and pothole that adds some serious air time. I usually come to a stop somewhere in the middle of the road, although I have made it completely across the road before. This feat scares the dust out of the mainly elderly population that happens to witness it. So, anyway, by the time I arrived home I had used all of today's supply of energy and more than likely a good share of tomorrow's. There are many dishes in the sink waiting to be washed, and the floors need to be vacuumed and mopped (hint, that takes many days to accomplish and I may be seeking assistance with that as it eats up about a week of energy), and I am too tired to do anything about it. Not sleepy tired - although I did crash with some weird system errors earlier (I was violently shivering, freezing cold, every muscle hurt, and I was groggy) and took a nap then- but physically exhausted to the point that I can feel the weight of my eyelashes tired.
Here is a good example of tired. My blood sugar crashed this evening, and I was in the kitchen fumbling to mix up a protein powder that I keep for when I don't feel good enough to eat. I was having trouble opening the new milk jug, so I placed the half gallon container between my knees (now would be a good time to point out that my knees rotate inward with spasticity) to hold it and then firmly twisted the lid. Apparently my knees were applying significant force to the jug because I created a milk fountain. After a few choice and creative curse words, I looked at the large puddle on the floor and looked at my pajama pants which were already wet. I then stripped off my pajama pants and tossed them on top of the milk puddle and let them soak up the mess. I was too tired to go get a towel, or to dig under the sink for a roll of paper towels. I was then too tired and shaky to go get new pajamas, so I wore nothing but a t-shirt until the next time I went into my bedroom for medicine and then I snagged a dry pair of pants. The shakiness is gone thanks to the milk protein drink, and my soaked pajama pants are spending the night in the bathtub until laundry day tomorrow when I will pay a little extra to the wonderful woman who does my laundry for having to deal with stale milk smelling pajamas.
My BIG goal for tomorrow? I am running out of dishes, so I think I need to wash at least a few of those so I have some plates and bowls to eat from.