Fail.

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With all my plans in hand, if a bit too much on the schedule as usual, I had a bit of breakfast, coffee, and was just cruising until it was time to get going. When that time came, I could not quite get going so I changed my activity and did a little cleaning in the kitchen. Time crept by and it is now too late to do what I had planned. Oh yes, frustrating. I honestly thought I could get some of it done. I may make it to at least one of the stores later. I am completely finished for now. I am nose diving after failing to lift off.

Once again, I see that no plans of mine can necessarily come to fruition. I am stuck. I will keep pushing to get these things done. I will try to corner myself in such a way that through trick or treat, I find a way out to take care of business. I had planned to have lunch or dinner at my favorite restaurant upon the completion of the majority of my proposed deeds. Not even treats seem to get this body to work. Some days I simply lose.

By the way, I have an idea of one of the things they are looking for using the MRI scans. It is called Cushing Syndrome. There are only five symptoms which I note as having, but they are rather significant. If nothing else, it leaves the possibility that my issues truly are purely physical. How many other diseases offer similar complaints? Why were physical ailments never ruled out, let alone considered? Twenty years into disability and I am just now being reviewed, and tentatively at that, for physical issues? Angry, yeah, I suppose. Much more so if it proves that a single non-problematic specific hormone uptake blocker can fix the issue. A world of idiots, that is what I live in, and sheep. How, exactly, was I supposed to protect myself when I can barely stay awake?

Anyway, I will attempt to make the trips I need to take on Monday. I will make at least one trip into town before that though, and hopefully get the tire fixed and maybe do some shopping. It is embarrassing to just sit and to not be able to do a darn thing about it. It is shame inducing. It is frustrating. And there is not a thing I can do about it but write. I leave these bitter things to God. It is all the fruit I have. Not the lack of function, but the suffering it produces. Perhaps that not being fruitful causes shame and suffering is cause for celebration in a world were most would cherish my situation?

Well, on to figuring out what I can do and when. Or maybe back to bed. I am so beyond exhausted at this point I am not even sure what I am writing.

Update: You know it is bad when you are too tired to do anything, including sleep. I really am simply stuck. Someone reboot me, please?