This Is Not Good

I'm becoming increasingly useless. I just can't seem to get myself together to do anything except sleep. It is as though my ability to actually act has turned to jelly and when I try to pick it up and use it it simply oozes away through my fingers. There is washing in the machine that I have already washed twice because I have apparently forgotten how to open the door and hang the clothes out to dry.

I don't want to do anything. Reading is out. I downloaded an audiobook but it didn't hold my attention. I have a DVD but I don't know if I can concentrate on a film. Music sounds discordant. My creative inspiration has deserted me. My bed calls insistently.

I keep trying to shake up my slow thoughts, because I really can't allow this to happen. I am going to sit outside in the sunshine for a while (except I don't want to) and then I am going to attempt to do some tidying (except I don't, to be frank, give a fuck what kind of state the house is in). After all, maybe this is just a bad day (several days), eh?