It's been a long time since I've taken a whole day and withdrawn almost totally from everything. I didn't go to any movies, or pull any weeds, or fine tune any spreadsheets. Whenever I turned on the TV, I lost concentration. I couldn't bring myself to sit at the computer until very late tonight. When I opened a book any time today, I fell asleep. In fact, I slept most of the afternoon away, even though I got about seven hours' sleep last night.

So there isn't much to tell about my day. I can't write about sleeping because I never, ever remember my dreams. I don't even remember remembering them. I don't get that feeling that when I woke up there was unfinished business on the agenda. The last dream I remember vividly was when I was eight years old, right after my grandfather died. That was a pretty bad one, so I don't much mind blocking them out now.

Apparently I needed this. I don't really think I'm sick, but I do know that the only time I felt perfectly fine today was when I was doing absolutely nothing. I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring. It could be a normal day, when I'm out and about and doing interesting things. It might be another like today. If that happens, and if it makes me feel a little less tired, that's okay. I'm tired of being tired all the time. I'm also tired of rain and wind and dark days and cold nights. That's something I can't do anything about, though, except endure.

I don't know. Maybe I should have tried to force myself off the couch and into action. I wonder if I'd feel better tonight if I'd done something today besides rest. Of course, that's not unusual. Almost every night I wonder if I couldn't have put the day to better use. And the answer is almost always "yes," but that doesn't mean I'll make different choices the next day.