Last night, when I got home from work, I remembered I had to get into my yarn stash to extract a particular color of a particular yarn that I need for a little project I'm working on. I knew it was there, and where it was, basically, and knew that getting to it meant moving many things, leaning, reaching, rummaging, etc. Hard work, in other words. But I felt up to it.
I put on a movie in the sewing room (I need distractions like that), and went to work.
Rummage was successful, movie wasn't over, so I sat down, started the movie over (since I'd missed much of it while I had my head in the yarn stash), and started in on another project that I'd been meaning to get to. Next thing I know, it's past midnight, I've gotten carried away doing this project, and I don't feel anything but the normal, everyday tired that I used to when that happened.
Seriously.
As I tidied up and headed for bed, I thought just how nice it was to have stayed up late doing stuff I used to do, feeling like I used to feel.
Like a normal person.
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