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Weak 1

My mom is outside, mowing my lawn.

Weeding my flower beds.

Cleaning out the underside of my lawn mower.

Criticizing my lawn care regimen, my sidewalk cleanliness, & how my driveway is too cluttered for her taste.

Ha.  She should’ve seen it before EldestDaughter moved all her stuff out.

This is why I hate being an invalid, even for a little while.

I love my mom, but we do things in totally different ways, & she simply can’t let me be.  She’s wanted to come up & take over my flower beds for years now, until I finally told her to – LAY OFF. I have things planted in a certain order, so that they come up at different times to bloom.  And they’re all self-sufficient. No muss, no fuss.

I know, I know. Mom just wants to help, to take care of me while I can’t do some of these things.

But – don’t make me feel inadequate in the process, please.

I already feel like a lazy piece of crap. I have no energy or stamina. I’m in pain most of the day, or I’m drugged to the gills, or sleeping.

I swept part of my floors today & did some dishes.  And now I’m wiped out. 

I have no patience for the recovery process…or at least, the beginning stages.

It’s already been a week. Shouldn’t I feel better than this by now?

Damnit.

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