And so begins another weary day.
Madness may have beaten me to claiming that line as my own by a few decades, but I'm not bitter, it just seems to sums things up better than anything original.
Surgery on both sides of my head has certainly made the task of finding a position to lie when in bed a challenge, but at least the removal of the remainder of my head stitches and abdominal ones after my second op felt like a step in the right direction.
Being able to wash your hair doesn't sound like 'punch the air celebration' territory taken out of context, but it certainly felt like that, especially as the infected neck wound still looked revolting when I saw it in all of its glory in the bathroom mirror.
Today has been a strange one, being time for my partner and the dog to disappear for a fortnight for work. I'm sure they will be relieved to be spared my nocturnal pottering around when unable to sleep, although, incredibly, they have put up with the disruption I have brought to their lives without so much as a word or a woof of complaint.
With the personal hygiene box ticked, the next milestone will be talking to someone who knows me only in a work context, as I've been off for four weeks now. I'm less worried about this than I am about washing my hair, as standing up for myself is something I'm as used to doing as washing my hair, so I should still be able to do it, even in a fog of fatigue.
Everyone has their own adversity to overcome. A sense of being even a small step further along the road feels good. Experience tells me to take nothing for granted and that setbacks can appear out of nowhere, but I'll tackle them head on, if they do.