My unbroken run of good nights’ sleep has continued unabated. My body woke me sometime between 8 & 9, but I dozed right off again, finally rousing into action at around 11—bliss. I may have slept longer if it wasn’t for a knock at my door, presumably because John or Lisa wanted proof I was actually still alive. As it happened, John was good enough to whip me up another one of his famous cooked breakfasts. It ended up being ‘a little well done’ by the time I reached the kitchen. Still, it was another treat—even if the air fryer boiled eggs were…very hard-boiled…to the point I could scarcely remove the eggshells.
With the mercury well into the pleasant and comfortably warm zone, we spent some time relaxing in the garden exchanging travel anecdotes. Like us, John and Lisa are well travelled, and we had a lot of fun re-exploring some of the places we’ve been to over the years.
John needed to pop into town for a few provisions, so I tagged along. It has been several days since my last visit to a Greggs, and I was starting to experience withdrawal symptoms. It might have been the Parkinson’s, though—it’s hard to distinguish.
We were back shortly after 1 pm. I was simply letting the world rush past me today, not that there’s much rushing of anything around here. I did exchange a few messages with Jacky, in Stevenage. She still wants me to build a website for one of her clients, and still doesn’t check the messages I send her. Jacky: If you are reading this, check your bloody phone every now and again and send me the details I need!
With nothing specific planned for the rest of the day, I took the opportunity to whip out the laptop and tend to a few of my author clients who were waiting on me for some book formatting updates. That killed another hour or two. Taking care of the first customer was easy enough. They just wanted a handful of minor edits to their manuscript. Getting their book to this point was a challenge, as I had to strip all their own formatting before I could knock it into shape. That laborious work is all done, so now it was just minor tweaks, which was easy enough.
The second client was a little more work. For the past year, I have been formatting a picture book for her. If I’m provided with everything I need, I can do this in a matter of hours. Normally, by the time an author reaches the formatting phase, their book content is finished, and it’s literally just a question of creating all the pages with that content (I’m somewhat oversimplifying for brevity). This client decided to make wholesale changes to the entire book, meaning I’m effectively having to start from scratch. As if that wasn’t bad enough, some of the artwork isn’t of sufficient resolution to ensure a decent-quality product, so I had to communicate that in a delicate way that didn’t upset her, and then try to get her to realise she needed to re-export the images from her graphics program but with the correct settings. She isn’t computer savvy, so I have to hold her hand through the process. That’s fine, and I enjoy helping authors, but it did take a few attempts for her to figure out how to produce the high-quality artwork I could work with. She sent me revised versions of the affected pages artwork across multiple emails, but the filenames were all mixed up, creating a confusing jumble. That just added to my workload, as I have to figure out which files are associated with which page in the book. That’s easier said than done when I have to keep track of which files were sent when, which files supersede previously sent ones, etc. I’ll get there in the end, but I’ll be glad to see the back of this project. Of course, it’s all part of the fun of dealing with authors, and I do thoroughly enjoy it all.
Despite my sleeping in later than normal, I did go down for a brief afternoon nap. Truthfully, I don’t think I actually reached full unconsciousness, though. Maybe I just wasn’t tired enough after all.
Dinner tonight was an experiment in addressing my ARFID. John and Lisa are aware I have this condition—Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder. I was unaware my picky eating habits actually had a name until it was pointed out to me by my doctor last year. He referred me to a specialist organisation which treats people with this issue.
I’ve been in ARFID therapy for the past half a year or so. My therapist has been working on getting me to try new things. To her credit, it has been moderately successful, despite my own reservations. I’ve eaten a range of things in recent weeks and months that I would typically outright refuse, such as cheese and pasta. Anyone who knows me will recognise those are two things that are just not part of my diet.
Tonight, John and Lisa cooked a rice and chicken stir-fry with sweet and sour sauce. There were beansprouts, paprika, and a range of other things mixed in, which I ordinarily would turn my nose up at. Typically, I refuse a dish or food where the ingredients aren’t clearly separated. Tonight, I did my best to overcome my reluctance and polished off what I was served. I sent before-and-after photos to my therapist, who I know from past experience will be running down the hallway to show off her progress with me to the other therapists in the building.
I didn’t do much today, other than sleep a little more than usual and potter around the house. I need to learn to accept that I can do nothing and it’s okay. It remains easier said than done. I still keep thinking I’m being unproductive when I’m not achieving anything. I suppose it could be argued that doing nothing—resting and relaxing—is achieving something. My batteries are being recharged. That’s still something I struggle to come to terms with.