Nine hundred and ninety nine.

Posts, I tell you now because that number is more pleasing to me than 1000. What in the world have I been blathering on about for 999 posts? All kinds of things, happy and heartbreaking, scary and hysterical. I love that I have written this blog, I hope that I will keep doing it and be able, in years to come, to look back and remember, cringe, laugh, cry, whatever I read, from way back when, I am transported right back and can recall exactly what I was feeling and how I got through it. I highly recommend blogs to all and sundry.
There are times when I almost forget why I started writing and am carried away by the need for comments. Lately the comments have dried up and because for some reason, Google stoped tracking for me, I have felt a little alone, once or twice, when I wrote a post that I thought was funny, or particularly poignant and darn it, no comments or maybe 1 or 2, I have ( to my shame) been disappointed and thought that I wouldn't bother anymore. Then the evening came around and I felt the pull of the laptop to spew all my woes, stories, thoughts down again and I realised that this blog is for ME. I love comments, I really enjoy knowing people have been here and read all my drivel but honestly, I need it for me. Also I have fixed google and so I can see that even if you don't tell me you have been here, I know you have. You can run but you just can't hide!

I have been walking though treacle just lately. You all know how I love CLEAN and TIDY and SHINY and SPARKLY, I love that, I don't have it though, not lately. I want it and crave it and yet every day I see what needs doing and ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, I just can't. That sock right there? Should pick it up and put it in the wash but that would mean bending down and using muscles. Energy, energy wherefore art though energy? Lawdie, it's a rough trop these days. I am still incredibly stripey, pale and watery eyed.....old and weary. I have had to start admitting my shortfalls, saying I can't and sorry and I wish I could but.....
I can sleep until noon, get up for 4 hours and prefectly able to sleep again. Maybe I am catching up after 23 years of insomnia, whatever it is a bit scary. I even though, briefly because what a horrendous thing to feel, that I am dying. Whatever this whole deal is with my skin and bones and life, is something that is literally sucking the very life out of me. Stupid. It's so hard to have to look at people and say that I'm sorry, I would love to go and do and enjoy, but oh dear, I have itchy skin.....not very dramatic or symapthy inducing is it? Nothing to call it. Nothing to explain why I just haven't been able to wash that corner yet, clean that wall yet. All stuff that probably on'y I see ( apart from the kitchen floor, who could not see that floor?) H could ( and would certainly) do it, but it still wouldn't be the way I love to see it and anyway he is absolutely looking after these boys, taking them out for 2 hours so I can sleep.....entertaining them here while I sleep or sit and think about everything that I wish I could do.
It is certainly all getting worse without my being able to say how, exactly.
I have another appointment but it isn't until March 10th, which seems forever away, it'll fly by though I'm sure, what will be done at that appointment will remain to be seen, I forsee a bit of desperate pleading and and cure for all this nonsense. Please. Really please.
Have to go now, have been awake for 2 hours, need to lie down and scratch my stripey face some more.
Spell check is not working, hasn't worked for some time, I would apologise for the typos but blergh......it all adds character to my writings ( or something!) So, here's to 999 posts, better try and come up with a doozy for the next one! And...say hello for goodness sake!