Seems like the whole world, including DH, is out enjoying the sunshine.
I have to work. Feel wretchedly tired and nauseous, am lying on sofa working on laptop trying not to vomit or fall asleep. Will probably fail at all of the above.
Only chance to get out in the sun was walking the dog, who was playing up so much I pretty much wanted to murder him.
The to-do list is as long as the Doomsday book and I have absolutely no motivation to do any of it. I just want to sleep and eat toast.
Overwhelmed, sick, tired, emotional, big wallowing mass of self-pity here. Only 8 weeks too. That means I have at least another 5 before I start to feel human again, right?