Mab of Dream

I've been put on the box another week, so the earliest that I can go back to work is next Thursday. The pain works in waves, with some days me being totally crippled and the next being not too bad at all.

It's a hard thing to get your head around, because I'm so used to being fit and agile. I'm a bugger for leaping over the backs of chairs to sit down and I doubt I've walked down the stairs in our house since we first moved in when I was about 7 or 8. I usually walk down two stairs, jump over the other 5, round the landing and repeat on the next flight. Now I'm moving like an old woman.

I'm living through the Grove at the moment. Musing on the spiritual questions; giggling through the banter; even if I'm not replying to that many. That's another weird thing. I do so much normally, when there are time limits set; but right now I have days and days spreading out with all of these hours to fill, and I've just slowed down to a standstill. I couldn't even tell you what I do all day. I read e-mails; I've watched a grand total of one film ('The Others'), though I've got into 'Charmed' and 'Ghosthunters'. I used to cram so much into a couple of hours, whereas now I'm doing sod all in days. I didn't know I could be so stationary.

This occasionally pops into my head:

But on the other hand, she's slowing down
She's lost a little of that magic drive

You see, that's the other thing. So much time to think and to get things out of proportion. I've totally lost sight of what my role is for Witchgrove, and nearly resigned as Mod earlier in the week, to just become a member. But the others talked me out of it. The words, 'Johnny, you're paranoid, cariad', have been said a lot.

As you can see, not a lot happening over here.

yours
Mab
xxxxx