Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
Vigor. Strength, energy, enthusiasm, stamina.
I’m going to whine a little bit, because I’m fighting the urge to let myself slide into the black hole of depression. Let me tell you, forced inactivity is no fun. Each day that passes in which I don’t move around much reduces my vigor by a little bit more, draining me of energy and vitality. Draining me even of the desire to get up and get moving.
So I move as much as I can, until I feel that little hitch in my git-along that tells me I’d better watch it.
I never thought I’d grow weary with reading, or watching Christmas movies on TV.
I am. I have.
I can’t go down the basement steps to work on a project I wanted to have done for Christmas. Terry is still carrying the load of my work: cooking, shopping, laundry, cleaning. I love him for being so willing, but I hate it that he has to.
Last night I dreamed that I was able to get through a normal day without ticking off that little demon in my back. I washed, cleaned, cooked, even went to my office–all in one day. And I wasn’t tired.
How sad to wake up and know it wasn’t true.
If you have vigor, and are able to do pretty much whatever you want to do, be thankful. Age and time can take that away sooner than you think.