My mom said it would be a good title for a book. Since I’m not writing a book, I decided to make it the title for today’s note. Because it’s true. I have the energy level of a slug.
The past weeks’ whirlwind withstanding, being sick has sucked the life out of me. My body has lain down its emphatic statement, “Slow down. Rest. You’re pushing me too hard. I’m not a fan of the pace you’re making me keep.”
And so. I’ve slowed to the pace of a slug and I have a bit of whiplash.
I’ll recover soon. I’ve been faithfully taking my medicine and resting. I have a big pile of mess upstairs that I must unpack and figure out where to place. I have an apartment to move out of in South Carolina :-(. I have a lot of grief to work through. I have a retreat to plan. I have some massages to receive. I have a call to discern. I have a life to plan. I have a play to see. I have legs to shave. I have a dog to bathe. I have friends to see.
Like I said. I’ll recover soon. I hope. But for now, I have the energy level of a slug. I’m just glad that I’m not slimy and that I have hands and feet.
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