Understatements

It isn't fair you know. To be isolated like this. To wake up and go to bed in this cave. I wish I had saved all my vacation for the month of December. I'd catch a plane and go somewhere that there is sunshine, heat and people. I didn't.

I will never love snow or the thought of snow again.

I'm about as tired tonight as I can ever remember being. And I did very little this weekend but sit and keep a tight rein on my emotions. But they still slipped the reins and took off across the field. I was left behind in a heap.

Now, I want to lie down but I have things I'd like to do. I wanted to write but I can't think. I wanted to read, but I can't think. I wanted to watch something, but I can't think.My brain seems to be straining to even get this simple, unimaginative post out. I've had a headache all day but am too frightened anymore to take the meds for it. Ludicrous.

I'm going to bed. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Ain't it the truth.