I woke up with high hopes of doing some baking this afternoon. It's been a few months now since I bought a food processor and I wanted to make Chris some sultana muffins with it.
But life had other plans and I had to handle some juggling of bills and made the necessary phone calls and then I took a shower. That's where the day spiralled out of control.
It took me forever to get showered and by that time, all my energy had been sucked off my spoons. I have barely enough to cook dinner.
My fibromyalgia seems to be always there, no longer flaring but constantly making me aware of every movement. Even my eyes seem to ache. Apart from physical torment, it now teases me with fleeting glimpses of spoons that disappear as soon as I flex a muscle. Most disappointing.
So apart from a few dishes washed and sorting out what to have for tea, nothing much as been accomplished.
She's a tyrant, Fibromyalgia. She dictates my days and even my nights and tantalises me with false promises. Ah well, it is what it is.
"The best laid plans of mice and men go awry!" comes to mind as does the scripture that says "a man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps!"
So today is not a day for baking. Thanks to my tyrannical spoons.
