Sleep is something that often eludes me. I consider myself lucky if I get a full six hours a night. But not this weekend.
I had my covid jab on Friday, Friday I was okay, felt like I’d been kicked in the arm because it was so painful, but I wasn’t ill, until Saturday. Saturday I was just wiped out. I got up late, couldn’t concentrate, only managed to read half a chapter of the book I’m reading. In the end I went to bed early – half six in the evening early.
Never have I ever felt so wiped out.
This morning I got up late, I decided I had to go and get a bit of work done in the garden. I spent an hour and a half pottering (pulling out ivy and bagging it up) and then I was exhausted. So I came in, put the roast on, then had to sit down for an hour.
As I write this, it is half seven and I’m pretty much ready to go to bed and sleep another fifteen hours. But I’ve stuff to do, so I’d best get on.
The Write Route 