Waste

I honestly think my life is becoming a waste.

Four days have passed since my last blog post and I honestly haven't done anything even worth blogging about. My life is empty. It is essentially meaningless. It consist of work and not much else.

I am reading books (which I love) and talking to friends (passing the time) but I am finding no value and worth in what I do.

I spent Tuesday morning getting blood tests at the doctor and being told that my immune system is exceedingly low. My neurocytes ( I think) - the things that help fight infections are low down and my immune system is dangerously low. I am trying to drill this in my head. My body is not fighting infections. That explains why I have a cold/flu for months and why my legs took over three weeks to heal from superficial cuts.

I also discussed getting the cervical cancer vaccination, doing more tests and seeing an endocrinologist. I am dreading the test results.

This means that I need to eat healthier, to exercise and to attempt to build up my immune system. I don't even know how or where to start so I'll just Google information on the Internet. I'm also going to book specialists and take it from there.

Ok the first thing I got is tea. Tea helps fight infection.

I have spent a great deal of my time on this blog pondering meaning and the value of life. I really do mean pondering because all the reading about it and thinking about it doesn't help. I have been looking at life, at worth, at meaning since I started this blog and I feel further away from it than ever before.

I read world news, politics and science studies. I follow up information online, find interesting sites, even connect with people and I am constantly gathering information. My life, this life, sitting here at a desk doing admin for a job that drains me is not the life I am proud of.

I have let so many things slide, so many things pass me by that I feel now that I have truly wasted so much.

A quick visit to my sister to give her and her daughter presents is not interesting. Watching Will and Grace and How I met your Mother two nights in a row is not interesting. Reading a fictitious and light book about becoming the guardian of a little boy called Inheriting Jack is not interesting. Meeting a friend for dinner once a week is not exactly exciting.
Nor are lunches, breakfasts and gossiping.

I'd love to be sitting here complaining about how I never get any rest because I have to look after my children. Or complain about things with my husband.

I am nearly 33 years old and I have nothing to show for in my life. I have my own place, a cat, a bird, a beautiful courtyard, friends and family and I am wasting every day, every moment of this precious gift.

As grateful as I am I have never felt lonelier.