Sleeping on the Job: Chronic Fatigue

PART 1

Ugh.

I'm too exhausted to focus the shaky tendrils of thought for long but I wanted to get this anti-party started. Being chronically ill sucks. Working while chronically ill sucks more. Well, okay, a little work is actually good, keeps you human, a functioning cog in the societal wheel. But for some, trying to use your brain and body congruently for longer than two hours is a Mt. Everest with no summit, only steeper climbs and less and less oxygen. 

I have Chronic Epstein Barr Virus / Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Two years ago, the change in health and physical activity nearly killed me. Seriously. Then the change in identity nearly did me in. Now the change in financial security is a looming, swinging guillotine that will break more than the skin on the next pass. I've begun rolling my fat, tired ass off the couch cushion a couple times a week in order to teach a college class and garner a check. That's right. One class. One big mo-fo check? No.  It's almost enough to pay for a bag of dog food and a box of Wheaties.

It's not all bad. I have time to write. I have time to hang with the kid. Unfortunately, I'm not so good at either lately, while I struggle to recover after each sustained exertion of energy. I can't walk up the stairs in my house, write a cohesive paragraph, play four-square standing up . . . 

Part 2 of this blog will describe a week in the life of that whiny bitch Holly. Seriously, not many people understand chronic fatigue -- or even believe in it -- so I thought it might be beneficial to dedicate my blogs to forcing you to wear my shoes around for awhile. I don't generally wear them around anyway, at least not in the afternoon, when I can't get off a chair. 

Stay tuned.