Late Nights

It's one o' clock in the morning. (Thereabouts.) Normally, by this point, I would be asleep.

However, seeing as I'm not, I thought it a good opportunity to continue the musings of earlier, to the relaxing sound of Brahms' Lullaby on repeat (courtesy of YouTube). M won't go to sleep, you see. It's a modern parenting thing, honest...

Anyway. Yes, musing. I think the chief difficulty is that there is so much that I need/want/crave to be foing outside the house at the moment, and 95% of it is on hold because I am still having seizures daily. The one I had earlier involved a lot of what, were I religious, could be described as speaking in tongues. I apparently told W that I itched inside, and wanted to run and run. I probably also told him a great many other ridiculous things, but the running part sticks in my mind.

I had planned to run in the Race for Life this year, until the Gall Bladder episode put an end to that. (Still, next year, eh?) I planned to do a lot of outdoor activities, including buggy walks, taking O and M to the park, walks along the river, that sort of thing. Instead, I am sat here most days, inside a fairly small house, with everywhere and yet nowhere to go.

Leaving the house is like an expedition to the Sinai sometimes. Have I got my bag, yes. Coat? Phone? Am I feeling okay? Keys? Epilepsy card? Am I sure I'm feeling okay? Do I need an umbrella? Have I got the changing bag for O/M if I am taking them? Am I really really sure I'm okay? And I'll only be going straight to that one shop and then home again, right? And I'll have my phone on and in my pocket, and will answer it this time, right? Right? Okay, then out the door, no stress, no pressure, just going for a quick jaunt to one shop and one shop only and then straight home again before I fall down and start telling people the sky is green and pink at the same time. (No, seriously, if you are nuts enough to look at the sky on a clear day for long enough, this optical illusion actually happens. Blame my sixteen-year-old self for being boring and not kissing boys.)

The whole palaver does make me reluctant to go out though. It gets to the point where it's just so much hassle, even for things which are relatively run of the mill, such as taking O and M to parent and toddler groups. Some days I just can't muster the enthusiasm. It's just another day, just another group, and tomorrow I'll be just as incapable of doing things other people take for granted, like being spontaneous.

I bought myself some cheap earrings today, just because I was walking past the shop and there was a sale. I honestly can't remember the last time I was out in town and I just decided to go and buy something like that, and W wasn't there with me, being all manly and not understanding window-shopping at all. It was just a few precious minutes, but it was for me, and it was spontaneous.

I miss that the most, I think.