Don't tell me you're tired

Today I fear I may fail in my attempts to give you anything interesting to read. I'm on day four of five, not a regular occurrence, but it means today I have to dig into the depths of my energy reserves.
Battery levels are officially on low and the world is like that dreary slow voice you heard in your  headphones when your Walkman (for those that are old enough to remember) needed new AA's.
So today is a day of swamp walking (dead legs), fish bowl vision and speech that makes Lindsay Lohan look sober.
The main worry is the concentration, the fear of making a mistake and looking like an idiot. I have to just pray for the best and hope my lovely colleagues don't think i'm a grump.
I wish somebody could walk just one day in my shoes and see how difficult every step I take is and at the same time not wishing this selfish, consuming disease on anyone. I honestly think sometimes that whilst sympathetic, not many people actually understand how hard it is for me to work and function like everyone else. I put twice as much effort into everything I do just to be at the same level and speed, and to avoid massively the perception that I should be given an easier ride because of my illness.
Ultimately I don't have to justify my tiredness, I choose to explain as a reminder to why i'm going at a snails pace that day. So i'm going cut myself some slack, to work in management in a busy shop and stand on my feet 9 hours a day whilst having lupus, is bloody legendary. In the words of the long suffering SuperMark ( my husband).. "Lupus...only proper hard bastards get it."
You can tell he works in advertising..