Sleep is over-rated. I went to bed quite early (for me) yesterday and I do not think I had more than 10 mins sleep an hour. Could I get comfortable? No. Could I sleep? No. Could I read? No. So I got up at dark o' clock and got ready for physio and the wobble board from hell, and when my friend came to collect me, she took one look at me and told me I look like death, or words to that effect. I did. Slitty eyes and all. A zombie. And that was before the wobbleboardfromhell.
So I told the physio I had not had any sleep, and she said...."Oh, what a pity, so let's start on the wobble board shall we?" Right. Evil. That is what she is. No let up at all. No sympathy. Get on with it. So I did. And, unsurprisingly, everything hurt even more, and I could hardly do some of the exercises. So I am home now. Feeling drained. Weary. Exhausted. I may well give in and go and have a nap on the couch. Just as well I let my friend take me there and bring me home.
Bath. Monday. They will sort it.