"You sound a little hyped"

Prednisone, although a very fine drug to kick-start a suppressed immune system that does not feel up to forcing ye olde lungs to work, is still after all, a bully-boy steroid.

My sister had warned me not to do too much as I would be *high*.
O, I don't know about high. Compelled I would say is a better word.
I am drop-dead exhausted but I have the urge to DO something. Anything.
Yesterday, I wheezed through unpacking and sorting 11 of my Dad's boxes and helping him reduce, re-use and recycle them down to 3. It was hard persuading him not to throw maps in the garbage. "Who would want an olde map?"
If not the Thrift then the recycler.

Today I used that energy, that unnatural chemical energy to enforce a cull in my own home.
I had a miniature army of minions, vacuuming, dusting, and taking boxes away.
I must have gone up and down the stairs 2 or 300 times.
Th 13 year old collapsed. The 44 yr old friend went home. The 35 year olde well-intentioned neighbour made the hasty exit and still I soldiered on.

Long since done for the day, I tried to unwind my favourite way. (But Jay did not come over, drat it) Second favourite way, CBC the unblessed-at-the-moment-strokebound-CBC, a good bookieboo and some non-lead candles.

No dice.
Called my sister to ask her something or other I forgot the second she answered.
"You sound a little hyped," she said wisely.

I am exhausted.
And completely UNtired. And I lost that last Ativan to the vacuum, the one that was for tonight. -arg-

Now I did have a point when I began typing this.
Nothing to do with hobbits or geriatric and palliative care, mental illness or gamma rays.
Wish I could remember.
And I have the urge to giggle about it.
uh oh.

--------