Not that I can give it up! If only that were an option. But it's been about three months since diagnosis, and if I were grading myself on how well I've been dealing with it, I think I'd have to give myself an A. I've been very good! Doing all the medical things as needed, on time. Keeping up with my other commitments, responsibly paring them away in a controlled manner. Having only a few meltdowns, and always at a time when they could be dealt with without really inconveniencing anyone else. I've even mostly been eating sensibly and staying (sort of) within our budget, rather than doing what I really want to do, which is having cake and ice cream for every other meal and buying plane tickets to a villa in France.
I have been so good, and I am so very tired of being good.
There's two weeks until the end of the semester. I can get through the last push of classes and grading, I can. There's really not that much left to do. But I feel like I'm wading through mud, that even the smallest task, like answering an e-mail from a student or prepping a lecture for class, requires me to summon up vast reserves of willpower. The effort required is completely out of proportion to the actual work.
Everyone has been telling me to take it easy, and I'm trying to, I swear. I just need to get through this last little bit, and then I am going to lie in my hammock for the next four months and re-read old favorite novels. McCaffrey, Pratchett, Bujold, here I come....