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I've got so used to talking about having the spoons to do this or the spoons to do than that I sometimes forget that most people will not have the tiniest clue what I'm on about.
Spoon Theory originated with a young woman who suffers from Lupus (Systemic lupus erythematosus, or SLE). It is a very useful way to talk about the little chunks of activity that our various disabilities allow us.
Obviously very few people reading this will be afflicted with lupus itself, which is mercifully rare. But a lot of people will have serious conditions of one kind or another that limit the amount of spoons they can play around with.
I'm lucky. I don't have lupus, I have other stuff, so I start most days with about 20 spoons.
I wake up. I get out of the bed, scrub my teeth and wash up. (1 spoon.) I make the tea and do a couple of last night's plates. (2 spoons.) I need to get to the shops, so I have to get dressed. Thus begin the Bra Wars: what fit me on Tuesday may be to big or too small right now, so I have to locate something clean and functional (3 spoons). I have to assess what top clothes I'll need for the work I'm doing today, which probably means locating two sets--one to fix the leak in the bathroom and one to teach in (4 spoons). I pop out to the cornershop for milk and bread (5 spoons. No, seriously, cornershop is a whole spoon--I have to make sure I'm decent, I have to find my keys, I have to make sure I have enough money, I have to make sure I have a full Ventolin--it's a spoon). If I make a cooked breakfast, SPOON! (6 spoons).
Hopefully it's still fairly early, so I can go to the gym without too much stress. (The gym or equivalent is mandatory, btw--skiving for more than one day costs at least 5 spoons. You have to go, whether you feel like it or not.)
Getting ready for the gym: at least one spoon. Let's be generous and say you're just going to use the pool and not the gymnasium. You will need your: swimming costume, bathing cap, towel, flip-flops, membership card, a bottle of water, your asthma meds, exact change for the locker, cash, and keys. (Hope you can remeber all that, Sparky--if you have to go back for anything, you might need a spoon for that too. Uh oh!) Let's be generous and assume the Gym Fairy put everything where we could find it: 7 spoons.
A 15-minute walk can take one to two spoons, depending. This is a good day, so one sp. (8 spoons.) Getting changed and showered, emolliating dry skin condition: a spoon (9 spoons).
This is a good day, so we'll allow 1 and a half spoons per 500 metres. Bye bye 3 spoons (12 spoons).
Deary deary me. We still have to go to work. Fortunately we're only part time and this is a light day. So, sorting out the lesson plans, getting everything printed up/photocopied: 1 spoon. (13) Let's assume this is a local class and won't cost a possible 2-4 spoons of travel time/energy. Beam me up, Scotty!
A 90-minute English class later, we are down only another couple of spoons (16).
Home sweet home. Did I finish all the shopping this morning? Oopsie. One less spoon pour moi. (17)
I cook. Hubble bubble toil and trouble, veggies chop and sauces bubble. Spoon down. (18) So I'm excercised, worked and fed, with two whole shiny spoons remaining. TWO!!!1!
Did my monniker just flash up in yr IM? Did I just call you a wanker? Did I just have at ye on LJ? You either suck or rock bigtime, because I gave you a bit of one of my spoons. (NB: This has been a good day. Most days do not allow for such spooniferous profligeracy.) |
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