I only had three ambitions yesterday. To get a big pile of sig sheets done, to watch the extended edition DVDs of The Two Towers and Return of the King, and to have a quiet, relaxing day.
Well, at least I got the sig sheets done.
Otherwise my day was filled with visitors, phone calls, parenting, lower GI follies and eventually, after about the 70th demand on my attention a rising and rather nasty sense of grumpiness on my part. Like
Marlene Dietrich Greta Garbo [ETA: Ah, cultural literacy on chemo brain], all I really wanted was to be left alone. The world, and the people who love me, had other ideas.
Normally I roll with that stuff just fine. I like people in general, and I love the people I love. But for some reason yesterday that switch was out for repairs. I was well rested, so it wasn’t even simple fatigue making me grumpy. I’ve had various emotional crashes on chemo, but they tend to run to withdrawal or bursting into tears. I don’t usually get prickly and cranky and mad.