So. Damn. Tired.

As I sit here typing, I am on my third cup of coffee (and this one's mocha) and I've just eaten a pancake with peanut butter and syrup.
Hey, don't judge.
It's the shiznit.

I should be buzzing....I should be bouncing off the walls. I should be ready to rescue the world while juggling puppies and herding kittens.
But all I wanna do is lay down. And sleep. I have no desire to do much of anything...I'm just tired.
And I have been for awhile now...some days I can fake it like Sally (as in "When Harry Met...) and plow ahead.
Others?
Well, let's just say, I am moments from logging off and hitting the couch.
I'm tired of being tired.
Seriously...I try to keep up, and then BLAMMO, it hits me. My brain stops working and my limbs feel heavy...

And it's not like I don't have shit to do...I DO...I just don't care. And that's not like me. All the docs say it's normal. But this "normal" isn't MY normal. When do I get to take possession of me again? That's all I wanna know. When will I have stamina? When will I have desire? (And no, I am not referring to sex---although I *would* be referring to it if I even remembered what sex *was*).
When will this be fun again?

I can't speak for all people who've gone thru a cancer diagnosis (especially since we all have different diagnoses and prognoses) but this energy suck is tough....I mean, we're hit with this scary-assed shit, we're battered, scarred, abused---and we don't have to energy to enjoy the after-battle?

Not cool.

That's it, cancer...you are NOT COOL.

Yeah, yeah...diagnosis depression is a real thing...add it to the "normal" fatigue of the cancer battle, fatigue from medications, and you get what I am driving at.

The good news is, when people around me bitch about life or their schedule or their ass-aches, the only reason I don't snap their arms off their bodies and beat them with the bloody stumps, is because I am TOO DAMN TIRED.

So all of you reading this who may have whined about something trivial in front of me, lately?

You're welcome.
;-)