I’m technically not really sick any more – no fever or anything, although I’m coughing at the least provocation. But my appetite is still gone. I eat half a portion at lunch, and even though I don’t feel full, I really don’t feel like eating any more, either. Just don’t want to, at all.

After a week of little to no food already, this isn’t exactly helping me get my energy back.

Chocolate ice cream as a late night snack sort of works. I can eat it without actively struggling against it.

Looks like this is all I’m going to see of Kläppen. I’m still barely able to stand, and definitely not up to any skiing. Worst ski trip ever.

Still sick. But I’m actually eating real food today, for the first time in days. And I even stood up long enough to fix it, and then I sat up while eating it, and I even chewed it all by myself.

We’re in Kläppen for a few days of skiing and I’m sick as a dog. Instead of skiing I’m spending all day lying down. Not even sitting up. My body hurts at night so I can barely sleep, and I have a fever and zero appetite, so I’m weak and tired all day. Don’t even have the energy to read or knit or anything.

The Urb-it office is on the seventh floor, with grand views over the roofs and squares of central Stockholm.

First thing in the morning, walking up all seven floors is sometimes a struggle. I arrive huffing and puffing, and sometimes a bit dizzy. Sometimes I even take the lift.

After lunch it’s like it’s a whole different set of stairs. Or a whole different me, I guess. I’m fairly racing up the stairs, taking them two at a time without any particular effort.

Early mornings are not my thing. My body needs hours to properly wake up.

Sweater progress photo.

If I was filthy rich and had more rooms in my house than I knew what to do with, I’d have a crafts room with lots of natural light, and a large mirror well-positioned to take advantage of that light for all my sweater and cardigan selfies.

Now I don’t have that, so I can choose between a dark hallway and a well-lit but sterile-looking bathroom.

But the sweater is looking good!

I have reached a new stage in my life: that of a glasses wearer.

In bad light, towards the end of the day when my eyes are tired, looking at tiny things, I found myself having to move those things further away from myself in order to properly focus on them. Reading is not a problem at all, but embroidering seed stitch in lamplight or darning black-on-black were no longer effortless.

This is going to be one seriously over-crafted storage box. Just attaching the lining to the padding means meters and meters of hand-stitching over many, many evenings. The effort is out of all proportion compared to the artistic merit of the embroidered panels that started it all, or the cheap materials.

Thinking of it as stitching meditation, though, it’s a perfectly good use of time. The fact that I’m producing something potentially useful and decently pretty is a side effect.

Look, an actual workout photo, with no kettlebells in sight!

I know, yet another boring dumbbell photo. (I am bad at remembering to take photos during the workout.) But I am proud of sticking to the workout habit when, some days, I really don’t feel like it.

And that’s only before starting. I still tell myself that I can stop partway through but I never end up taking that out. I do actually enjoy the workouts, and the pleasant muscle soreness afterwards.