Day 346: Straws And Camels

Relentless in Milton Keynes.  A succession of rain, roundabouts, hotel coffee, and a steady stream of participants on back-to-back, overscribed sessions.  Barely time to wee, and no time to eat.  By the end of the day I am catatonic. 

Home to the receipt of some materials.  Incomplete, ill-considered, not fit-for-purpose.  For Monday, FFS.  When I will be either a) wearing the shame or b) using everything I have to get away with it.  Neither is a feel-good option, but in many ways, b) is the worst.  It's the one that comes at the greatest personal price, sucking up a huge amount of energy and leaving an unpleasant aftertaste.  Feel desolate inside.  Sleep does not come easy. 

Overnight, for the second time in my life, my back spasms.  I am left gingerly, carefully rigid.  This is not normal for me.  I have a strong back, and am pretty robust physically. 

After a day in Milton Keynes

Interesting that at the point where I reach a perceived limit mentally, my body decides to give me notice physically.  My friend Andrew would say that I am acting out.  Straws, camels, backs.  Loss of backbone.  Any number of metaphors. 

Appreciate the reminder.  When I get a physical note-to-self, I know that I've gone too far. 

Duly noted.