The day is dragging, just like my backside.
It's not even three yet I've looked at the clock about a hundred times today.
Things started well enough. I woke before eight, showered, dressed and walked to my dispensing opticians to pick up my new specs. On the way, I realized I'd forgotten to bring some mail that should have been sent out days ago -- one piece being a query to an agent regarding my manuscript. I wonder what darkness in my brain has made me foot-drag on that?
Back home, I am having trouble seeing clearly with the new glasses despite having tried them out in the store.
I've been trying to write, working on the new story, and it's been painful. Slow, slow, slow. I decided to break away and get the mail out so I headed toward the grocery store. They all have post offices in them now, right? Wrong.
Doubling back, I walked to Dresden Row feeling like I weighed about five hundred pounds. My legs didn't want to carry me. I dressed too warmly and began to sweat. What should have taken me about thirty minutes took forty-five.
What's wrong with me?
My back's been stiff and sore so I haven't gotten out much since I've been back from the cottage. Could that be it?
Regardless of how much weight I've put on, I've always been able to walk long distances without any problem. This time, it's killing me.
Agh! That was probably not the best use of phrase.
I look forward to the day this walking thing is easy again.