This week has been utterly relentless so far. No one thing has stood out – each day has just felt like an endless train of one thing after another. It doesn’t help that I’m still recovering from whatever walloped me a couple of weeks ago (I suspect covid, but haven’t tested). Afternoons are the worst – there appears to be an energy cliff-face of sorts that I unfailingly blunder over every day.

It’s strange – my body appears to stage a fight-back every other day – filling me with hope that I’ll be out running the next day – and then the next day comes with the mysterious appearance of what I can only imagine asthma might feel like.

It’s tremendously tempting to attempt a “hack” of my body – to fill it with chocolate and energy drinks, and force it through to the end of the day. In the longer term that’s not going to work though, is it – I’ll end up with a backside the size of Jupiter, and no teeth. Hardly suitable when I spend the majority of my working life gazing into conference calls via a webcam.

Maybe I need to re-program my brain to hate chocolate, and love bananas. They’re supposed to be good for you, aren’t they?

While writing this, I’m in consultation with my other half about dinner. I’ve suggested stir-fry because I can’t be arsed to do anything that requires more effort, and we have a load of leftover meat in the fridge. This of course means a walk into town to get beansprouts. Which is effort. Dammit.

I just thought. The supermarket sells cookies, doesn’t it.

(sound of door slamming, and footsteps retreating into the distance)

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