“So I’m almost over it,” I say to MindReader as he brushes his teeth. I step into my fragrant bubble bath. “It’s just that it was the perfect test – easy routes, no reverse parking…”
“I know,” he says through toothpaste. “It was much worse when I only just failed one of my tests than when I totally messed it up.”
“So close,” I say, squatting down in the bath.
“Billygean!” MindReader says. “What are you doing? You’ve still got your pants on!”
I look down. Indeed I do have stripey red and white knickers on. IN THE BATH.
“Oh!” I say, standing up and removing the now-soaking wet pants.
“How often does this happen?” he says with a smile as he leaves the bathroom.
I fling the pants into the sink and squat back down into the bath. I muse on the blog post I will inevitably write. Many people with CFS might refer to what happened in the bath as brainfog, but I know myself a little bit better than that. I have been writing about embarrassing incidents for five years. I read some people’s blogs who have CFS, but not many. I figure most (healthy) people want to read about people, not an illness. Indeed it is only over the past few months that I have worked to grow a Facebook fanbase of other CFS sufferers and not just relied on the few hundred regular, healthy readers I’ve had for years.
CFS became a big part of my blog in 2008, but it is not what my blog is about. I was doing stupid things long before I got sick. And I will do them for a long time after.