So, where were we when I had to take a break? Ahh yes, finished and done with Day 10. It is now time for Day 11 to go live.
It’s sad how one cannot have the cake and eat it too. Don’t get me wrong. Diabetic that I am I don’t want cakes, not on a daily basis anyway, or have ones that can be eaten but remains un-eaten. Confusing? Thank you, that was my intention. Just kidding. The cake analogy was used as a metaphor.
In the past it was so easy to manage home, guests, blogging, reading. I could give the whole day and part of the night to people and events in my life and still use the hours in the dead of the night for ‘nefarious’ activities like writing long posts in the hope of boring my dear readers to tears.
Now I find myself too tired and sleepy by the end of a long day however happy and fulfilling a day it has been. That’s why that bit about the cake mentioned above, the desire to have it and eat it too. I wish I could have a long exciting day and be able to write late into the wee hours of the night, and wake up fresh as a daisy and not a drooping hibiscus ready to fall off the bush.
Sadly, things do not go as one wishes. Also one ages. The body is not willing to do any more than it possibly can. What the heck, it asks me in annoyance whenever I push it. How old do you think I am? ‘Twenty-five?’ I ask hopefully knowing the answer is anything but. The body snorts in reply. Try again, it tells me in chilly tones. ‘I know! Forty-seven!’ I reply gleefully. I don’t believe this, it answers in a tone that suggests she thinks I am too crazy to be trusted with her safety and well being.
You cannot trick your body into energy levels you wish it had by mere suggestions. The truth is I am sixty and counting and should be grateful to be not having to count the cute, bleating thingamabobs with wool on them, which incidentally is an activity unlucky ones have to indulge in to fall asleep soundly. I should know. I was one of them till recently and believe me, it doesn’t even work that well.
I should feel lucky that all I have to do is turn a page in a book or plant a few pumpkins in my FarmVille farm before I am out cold, dead to the world and the howling dogs outside my window. I admit I do feel grateful to be the poster child for the ‘early to bed and early to rise’ proverb.
© Shail Mohan 2023
I hear you loud and clear and enjoy your apt description of “a drooping hibiscus ready to fall off the bush”!
Thank you, Anne. I feel like a droopy hibiscus today, haha.
Bovine Ordure said:
Your body should talk to mine, just to feel better about itself. The 60-25-47 mismatch is far superior to the 50-25-37 mismatch mine experiences.
You too, eh? But at Hal a century it was still not so bad, I could have my late nights and still have long fruitful days 🙂
Mick Canning said:
Oh, where do those energy levels go?
It’s a mystery, isn’t it? 😄
Mick Canning said:
I know how you feel. I read past diaries and cannot believe how much I achieved in a day twenty years ago! Ah well, at least we’re still here!
Yup, we are still here, there is that 😄
Ken Powell said:
I know the pain. Except I have noticed that, not so long ago, I used to at least say I ‘feel’ eighteen. Swiftly, it became, I ‘feel’ twenty-five’. Now, I ‘feel’ about forty – which is still much better than the fifty-two I’m not far from being! But it is worrying when the ‘young you’ you feel is also getting past it 😀
I know, right! 😄