Usually I'm pretty good at predicting how much energy I'll have left after a particular task/event, and budgeting my time/workload accordingly. Today, not so much.
I had seven things to do today: laundry, dishes, shower, mow the lawn, do a boatload of sewing for an event next weekend, do a little woodworking for my camp for said event, and attend the inaugural meeting of a new (yarn) spinning group. The sewing and woodworking didn't get done because the spinning group took considerably more energy than I had.
Now five out of seven might seem like a success, but that list of seven was the bare minimum that I needed to do today to stay on track to get everything finished in time. The spinning group wasn't something I could miss because they specifically made sure I'd be able to attend when they scheduled it, the dishes and laundry included things I need for work tomorrow morning, the lawn (with associated sweating) had to be done before the shower and the shower had to be done before the spinning group, so the sewing and woodworking were scheduled for afterward.
I got home from the spinning group, sat down on the couch, and felt my brain crawl into the darkest corner of my skull and flatly refuse to participate in any further activity until it had had a nice long rest. I managed to fold the last load of laundry and do some dishes after staring at the ceiling for a while, but getting out to the shop or up to the studio wasn't happening.
Such is life with chronic illness. You make plans, your body doesn't play along, and you fall behind. This setback is going to leave me a little frantic for the rest of the week, but I'll manage one way or another, even if it's by accepting that I'll have far less product available for customers this coming weekend than I'd planned, meaning it won't be as profitable a show as it could be. I'll make do, and try not to let the frustration eat my brain.