6 July 2007

I wasn’t going to write anything today, because I only seem to write when I feel bad. But then, with time hanging a little heavy on my hands, I thought perhaps I’d write about how I feel on a ‘normal’ day, or what passes for normal these days.

The day has been uneventful (this has the makings of a very dull read). I was a little late to bed last night, so felt tired this morning. As usual, that makes getting started, the walk to the station, etc etc, a little more of a trial that usual. It’s still surreal having to think consciously about things as basic as walking, but that’s the way it is.

I didn’t have to rush to the station as I’d left in plenty of time (well, to get my late train anyway). Curiously I’m not convinced that walking more slowly is actually any easier. I was always used to walking at a fair clip and it seems that even now going slowly isn’t a solution to improving how it affects me. Fast or slow I seem to end up just as exhausted just as quickly. It’s almost as if it’s distance travelled rather than effort expended that counts, which is as bizarre as it is almost certainly a figment of my imagination.

I’ve kept my brain fairly lively today, which has helped me stay awake and fairly alert rather than, as is fairly common, periodically dropping off.

How positive do I feel? Fair to middling I guess. I still regret the things I can’t do, but in slightly weird ways. I was out in Canada Square at lunchtime and they are relaying Wimbledon. It crossed my mind that I will never be able to play tennis. Now, I haven’t played tennis in at least five years, and didn’t have any intention of doing so. So why do I care? Because I want to have to option, the possibility, the choice.

Without choices, how can we be free? Of course physical activities are not the be all and end all of life, but it is more than a little irritating that a whole swathe of options has been denied me.