It's Monday. I woke up late this morning and I'm still sleepy. It's sort of sunny. It's been a good weekend. Spent Saturday knitting on Parker's Piece and listening to poetry. Yesterday was church and lunch out and an afternoon hanging out at a friend's house.
Life is still up and down. I'm very tired. Sometimes I'm OK. Sometimes I'm sad and fed up with life. There's not much else to report. I felt so much better after the lakes weekend, I thought things were going to be all better from there. But then I did too much, I think, made myself tired, went downhill again. Everybody's telling me to take care of myself, and I'm trying as best I can.
I'm still alive. I'm still breathing. I can still smile, sometimes. I wish I could cry.