ZERO ENERGY

I’m down to zero energy, I think. Maybe even minus numbers. I woke up in the middle of the night, streaming with cold and feeling like my insides had been sanded down while I slept.

I have a tricky balance to find: preserve my energy for tomorrow, or get moving and do some stuff today, risking the possibility that I will be useless tomorrow. It seems I won’t be able to do it all.

I hate sickness. It separates people. It ripples loneliness in all directions until you can’t see anyone, talk to anyone, or even ask how they are. It forces solitude. Imagine having something serious like the Plague or something, and writhing in agony without being able to see or be comforted by the ones you love.

I should point out: I haven’t got the Plague. I’ve got an energy-draining cold, and no, it’s not the same. I’m just pointing out that sickness always seems to separate people, no matter how serious it might be.

So I’m lying in bed, watching Star Wars trailers on YouTube as though I were sixteen, and writing down my wacky theory about why some conversations happen out-of-phase: I’ll come back to that but if you’ve ever tried talking to someone who appears to be listening, and then hasn’t been with you at all, you’ll know what I mean.

Zero energy. What a drama queen. I’m obviously typing and thinking. And thinking occupies a lot of my energy, most of the time.

I might get up in a bit and do some lunch. I’ve got a can of chilli somewhere, and some cheese that needs eating. I haven’t quite reached absolute zero yet.