Why...

I did too much, again, today.  But it is really, really, really hard for me to admit that I cannot (should not) do any yard work anymore.  Not just some.  Not even a little.  Nada.  Zilch.  Absolutely nothing.

The variegated weigela has languished this year.

By comparison, its mate has flourished after taking a very long recovery period following the construction on the back porch.  Both weigelas were marked as "sun" plants, but the plain weigela has done rather well in the partial shade.

So, I moved the variegated one over to the empty spot on the other side of the steps, where I have been hankering to plant a lilac bush.

I about died.
Puked.
Fainted.
Trembling.
Miserable.

That should have been all that I did.  However, I had such plans.

For example, the utter wrongness of the too-large stonecrop between the rose bushes has been bothering me something fierce.  I wanted to move them, but was not sure where.

This is the bed on the side of the house, which used to be filled with too many daffodils and the garage-sized rose bush.  The rose bush I had to completely cut back.  SNIFF.  SNIFF.  At least it has sported some growth and thus is not completely dead as it had looked.  I decided to put the stone crop here.

First, I divided each of them to space two plants on either side of the rose bush.  If it grows back as high as the garage, the stonecrop should still be okay in the shade of the rose "tree."

Don't the rose bushes look ever so much better now??  I need to prune them back, but they are still blooming!  Maybe in a couple of weeks.  Well, maybe I will ask Firewood Man to prune them back for me in a couple of weeks.

I still would like something low and GREEN between the bushes.  Clearly I erred in selecting stonecrop last year.  SIGH.

The moving and hole-digging and replanting and watering just did me in.  I was sooooo exhausted.  That really should have been enough.

However.
However I had already put clean sheets on the bed.
Amos needed a bath.
I needed a bath.
And then there was the laundry....

Knowing that I had already changed the sheets and had so much laundry that it was spilling out of my closet, I should not have tried to do yard work.  But I have so much to do.  Such as dividing all the hostas in the bed on the side of the house.  No, I didn't make it there.

I did have dirty towels from two of Amos' baths, which exhausted my supply of Amos bath towels.  So, I had to do laundry in order to give him a bath.  I also had two sets of dirty sheets and every single pair of underwear I own.  And six of my hoodies.  And eight pairs of lounge pants.  And all of my compression stockings.  And nearly all of my socks.  You get the picture.  I had to do laundry.

I am in such agony from the musical bed gardening that I could tear my hair out.  I hurt soooooooo much.  It is hard to move.  But I am still working on the laundry.  The sixth and final load is in the dryer.  The fifth load is on my bed, needing to be folded before I can get in it.

I called Firewood Man, weeping, after moving the weigela.  The inside of the back porch roof still needs to be caulked and painted.   The rock river, smashed during construction, still needs some more rocks.  The corners of the gutters still need re-sealing.  The leaning evergreen tree still needs chopping down.  The basement toilet still needs re-setting.  The yard still needs aerating.  Those "still" things have been lingering for months.  And the hostas should have been split last year.  I cannot do most of those.  I think I should be able to.  Not the ladder/gutter or the chainsaw/tree, but the rest.  Surely.  Only ... no, I cannot.  

Realistically, baths for Amos and I and fresh sheets is all I should do in a day.  All I should do in several days.

When I am lying in bed, my heart rate drops into the 40s and 50s.  When I get up to go to the bathroom or fetch ice packs, my heart rate spikes to the 150s and 160s.  It triples or almost quadruples.  I feel miserable.  I shake.  I fight to not faint.  And when I crawl back into bed it takes a very, very long time for my heart to calm down enough for me to fall back asleep, even if I am really, really, really tired.  This is so much a problem that I am tired all the time and also find myself avoiding bed, even though the GREEN chair is not large enough to sleep in all night long.  Naps, yes.  Overnight, no.  It is just one thing that makes life hard.

Why, then, do I make it even harder by doing too much, by ignoring the fact that I cannot do yard work anymore?  That I either need help or need to let it go neglected?  Oh, my, my body is screaming at me.

Why ... why did I do this to myself??