Nobody else but me is gonna understand just how ironic this post is (provided it even makes it onto the site) as I type it out in an MS Word file rather than directly into the blog as I would usually do.
With a couple of extra hours available to me this morning, I always had it in mind to write a post with the above title.
What I hadn’t calculated was just how accurate that it would turn out to be.
I was going to write about how 2024 has been nothing like how I had imagined it would unfold and that the devils laughs at those who make plans.
…only for the site to be going through yet another unplanned breakdown.
It was a laughably ironic outcome so apt for what I had intended.
Anyway, the hosting company told me that the site should be operating again within 72 hours, which I will believe when I see it.
And back to what I was originally going to write about: how things don’t turn out as they’re planned to.
One reason I hadn’t been able to monitor the site since the last entry about 10 days ago was that I was ill….covid: for the third time. This time the illness lingered much longer than the past, when I had been up and about again after 2-3 days. I fell ill 10 days ago and still feel lousy. My chest feels constricted and breathing is difficult, but I get the feeling that I am improving. I had intended to go for a ride this morning when I woke up but felt too crook to do so, and the weather kindly played along by making the prospect of getting on a bike look unattractive.
I’ve barely ridden all year. Normally, missing a day makes me an irritable mess. I’m not yearning for the bike as yet. One happy consequence has been a subsiding of the pain in my arthritic hands due to the reduced shock absorption expected of them on the bike, I guess. Thank heavens for small mercies.
Indeed, considering what I’ve seen happen to hands this year, I am fortunate to even be able to feel the pain, let alone be blessed to have it weaken in intensity.
I’ve spent more than half the year so far in a tiny, north-facing room with pretty much only Dino for company. And a wonderful companion she has been.
It’s the toughest time of the year for the garden and I have kept an eye on it as much as possible. There’s not much I can do now except hope for the best and remain watchful. I still don’t really know what I am doing in the garden (probably over-thinking), but I am pleased that everything seems to be hanging on and the lawn still retains a lovely greenness.
Originally, now was supposed to be the time when I would have a new profession and be preparing to leave. It hasn’t come even remotely close to happening. Looking for a job has been impossible and little seems likely to make that situation change within the month. I guess I need the gift of desperation.
Physically drained is not the greatest state to foster mental well-being and that is proving the case for me. Moreover, realizing I’m not much fun to be around makes me more determined to put on a bright face and be positive, only to attack myself even further when I am unable to do so. Ad infinitum.
So it goes!
