I am not at all motivated to write. This is an internal life I am living at present. I’m in a position where self-isolating is totally possible, and not at all a hardship. Not like most of the rest of the world. I don’t yet know if I’ll be able to go to work when my medical leave is over. But I’m not fussing about it. I’d like to. But at the same time, I haven’t done hardly any of the things I said I’d do — write every day, play my accordion, exercise every day, cook delicious things.
I apparently missed the notification that I was embarking on a sick leave. And hoboy, I’ve been sick. I am nearly done round 5 of chemo now, and feeling better every day. But the exercise every day is still a bit challenging. For example, I went on a bike ride today — 30 minutes — and nearly puked 10 minutes in. Yesterday it took me over an hour to complete a 30 minute workout. If I were talking to anyone but myself, I’d say, “Dummy, you’re on chemotherapy! That shit is toxic — take it easy — and someone ELSE’S version of easy!”
So that’s what i’m doing. I’m even going to post this, even though there’s nothing particularly interesting in it, or pictures or anything. It’s the practice that’s the important thing. write. you’ll get better if you do it.