Fatigue creeps up on me
like a hungry bitch after lunchtime
looking for scraps of dreams
and pillow feathers to cling on.
She invites me to her bed,
warm and soft,
and gently kisses my eyelids
to a lingering state of limbo.
I let myself go between fragments
of whatifs and havetos
until I lose control.
It’s quite the fiesta,
if you know what I mean.
The pathetic sum of my vacation thus far:
- Tissues: On box number 3 currently.
- Pills: A great variety. Have had Ponstan for fever, Panadol extra, some basic flu-related ones and the mandatory sore throat lozenges.
- Thermometer: A useless one that keeps pointing out I have hypothermia when I don’t.
- Sleep: I have forgotten state of wakefulness.
- Tea: I sleep too much to drink it.
- Food: What is food again?
- Dreary English weather: Non-existent. Like a bad joke, it’s sunny every goddamn day.
- Farnham: I know the way to Sainsbury’s, but otherwise since I’m home all day I might as well be anywhere.
- Beads: 0
A visit to the doctor today is inevitable. Would you believe that I’m actually looking forward to that?