Over time I have come realize that there are different degrees of exhausted from the still functioning, power through, doing okay to the zombie status where it is amazing I can keep my feet. In between those extremes, the various levels are determined by the number of cups of coffee needed to make me feel functional, by how hungry I am (because my brain constantly confuses hungry and tired), and by how dry I feel from my eyes to my hands. It is not a fun scale or comparison.
Today I am sinking, struggling to stay afloat just above zombie status. My mind feels sharp only in short bursts. My eyes feel like they might crack with each blink and my hands, as they type this out, are paper thin. I can’t stop eating. I feel insatiably hungry. And coffee isn’t doing anything to curb my appetite or lift me up.
So it goes in the Kingdom these days. Going to bed early doesn’t always mean a good night. Staying up late doesn’t always mean a bad next day. It’s the chaos of little children and pets and a castle and all the other little details that all play their role. I know I’m not alone in this.
I can’t see it in the faces around me, hear it in their words and read it across the blogosphere. We are all tired. So, to that end, I say pour another cuppa and hope for better days ahead.