Even my fingers hurt

My body is tired.

I started the day by going to a water aerobics class a friend teaches. I haven’t gone since pre-Covid. Let’s just say that my body remembered the movements, but it was not happy. “What do you think we’re doing? We haven’t worked out like this in several years. You’re so out of shape. Forget tomorrow morning; you’re going to hurt by this afternoon. Oh, did you just pull a muscle? Sorry, not sorry. ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR FREAKING MIND?!”

Yep, that was my critical voice having a field day and yes, I do talk to myself as if I’m two people. It does make critical voice easier to spot that way.

Then, I put in a free hours of work. Sitting. Then, my son came over so we could change a car battery and go get it washed.

At home, I haven’t done any of my evening chores all week, so I really needed to get them done tonight. I did that.

All my body wants to do is go crawl into bed and rest.

But my mind… well, it’s invigorated and is ready to go write. It keeps asking how hard it is to go sit in the chair and tell stories. That’s all it needs me to do.

So, I thought I’d sit here for a moment and write my little blog post to give myself a moment of rest before I got to writing. I’ve almost got my body in arrange that it can maintain itself for a bit longer while I get some writing done. Yes, I think I’ll be able to do that.

But I’ll probably sleep well tonight and wake up feeling all of today tomorrow. Oh well. My health is important. If I don’t get myself in better shape, I won’t be able to help anyone else, or tell stories. And I want to be telling stories for a good long time.