Good Days Never Start With Spilt Milk

That's how my day started, and it didn't improve. Clearing up spilt milk and a broken bottle may not seem like a whole lot, but when you have CFS and your muscles protest at working before you can really wake up, it becomes a bit of a pain. Literally. Not to mention energy sapping.

So not a good start to the day. And it really hasn't improved. I've been in a crappy mood all day and don't really know why. It was a little better at lunch time, playing with Breeze and Red helped, but I soon got annoyed again. Exhaustion creeping in again I suspect.

At least dying my hair yesterday was a good choice. I think I'd class the color as purple, but it is a little hard to tell. It could be classed as pink. Either way, I really like it. It won't stay, I'll let it go natural again once it washes out, too much hassle dying it to do it too often, but I shall enjoy it while it lasts.

Havn't been about to write anything for a, um, maybe a week. That's pretty frustrating too and not helping matters. And I can't settle in to reading right now either, which is a sure sign that something isn't quite right. Happens from time to time, where unless its a new book that I'm desperate to read, I just can't settle to anything. It'll pass soon enough, but not being able to settle to anything, reading, writing or otherwise, means I start thinking too much. Getting more and more wound up in my thoughts, making bad days like this even worse. Shouldn't let it. Should just accept that it's a bad day and move on. But I can't. I think too much.

Going to go feed my rabbits now, get some ice cream (ultimate comfort food) and try and read for a bit before bed. Maybe.