Sunday. The day of doing little. Which means that there were chores done ’cause adults. Well, Z is always doing all the chores because he’s a god, and I’m a cripple. It’s not like he’s got the Adonis-level energy and strength for it, he just… he just does it ’cause it needs doing at whatever cost to himself, and I wish I could do more about it. But like, at least I helped with laundry and some tidying today in addition to being eye candy. It’s still nowhere near as much as I would like to do, but I also know that the days I push myself really hard are the days I end up paying for, ’cause chronic fatigue is no effin’ joke.
I’d rate it a really good day on the whole though. I was feeling the family love, and like, that bliss that seems to come from it. For me, at least, not that I’ve always had that with the whole bipolar/depression thing. Having that under control means that I sort of double-extra appreciate it because I *AM* able to appreciate it. Having a period to it where I was numb and unable to take part… I’m still sort of surprised that I made it through and gave the whole extending the family thing a chance again.
Blah blah blah, blah blah blah. 🙂
I guess that’s it really. I’m going to get back to zoning out.