(or: Twenty Five Minutes Of Typing In Lieu Of A Scream)
Poor sleep all week,
Constantly feeling tired / sleepy / dizzy / achy / weak,
Out of sorts and out of synch;
Too many 'to-do's put off "until I feel well enough to cope".
Tired enough to think I had a chance
To find my way to slumber early;
Took my meds, then fought my own damn legs
With TheraCane® and Knobble®, and fingers and toes and stubbornness
And actually managed sleep by one-ish,
Early for me (especially this week) and sorely (so to speak) needed.
No discernable reason
(Maybe a dream),
Naught remains but to blog a complaint,
Because a shriek of frustration, or even a suitable howl
Would frighten the cat and wake the housemate.
I say again
(or rather type, silently):