railenthe | Insert clever title here (I'm tired)

It is morning.

I have done a load of dishes and cleaned the sinks. A podcast about deep work is playing on my bluetooth speaker.

I have been trying to get my writing mojo back. Being without my work computer means that I am without my WIPs, and that is...well, it's a little discouraging when it comes to writing. I mean, the thing that I want to work on is literally not here to work on. And it hasn't been synced with my cloud accounts in a while so I can't just magic my way in and work on it from here. I need to get my stuff here so that I can work again.

Working depletes my introvert battery fast--I'm the window person in the drive through at work at lunch shift, and actually the little person in the box (as my grandma once called drive through order takers once) on the morning. By the end of the day, I simply do not want to human.

To add to the chaos, my body kind of taps out after those shifts. It's eight hours of work, three days a week. Less than I used to work, but I'm also making more there (because this state's minimum wage is not only higher, but places are so desperate to get new people on the staff of places that they're paying mad well).

I've been exhausted. My social life has been knocked to the side because I simply do not have the energy at the end of the workday. I'm working on getting better at that, but it's...well, it's hard work. I just want to rest lately. Now, I know a lot of this is the progression of my fibro. But to add another factor, my brain insists on saying "Well, maybe it's not the fibro/maybe it's not fibro at all/come on weakling you can do this shit."

Have I mentioned my brain is an asshole?

What I need is a vacation. From everything.