I'm tired of illness. I'm tired of coughing. I'm tired of feeling drained.
I'm tired of Mr Busy being so unwell. Not in a selfish he's-taking-so-much-of-my-attention kind of way. Tired of it because it's no fun watching your little boy struggle to overcome an infection that does not want to give up. I was hoping we'd just spend time relaxing and I'd watch him regain his health and vigour. Rather I've watched his health dip again and require another course of antibiotics and more tests.
I can't even think straight to get my essays written. I'm writing stuff down but it's pretty ordinary. Where has the sharp edge of my brain gone?