4/3 into 4/4 --Addendum to earlier post: the day did actually get better. Worked out. Turned in form. Cooked dinner. Embraced the mundane. However, some perverse nature of mine convinced me to cook something complicated (to me) for dinner and make brownies for dessert. I almost faltered when the dishes I'd thought were clean in the dishwasher were found to have gone through the last half of their cycle without water (my fault) and were--slimy, for lack of a better word. When I put them back in to rinse it almost set me back, but I got up & cooked anyway. Now to not allow the dishes that are still dirty and the large amount of cooking oil that must now be disposed of (we had chicken fingers) to daunt me tomorrow morning. Oh--further good news, the to-do list has 40% marked off. All in all an almost productive day. 
For those of you who are fully capable of going through a day like this without blinking, without pause, to do this again and again without getting discouraged that you are just wearing tracks in your carpet or floor without making any kind of extraneous or obvious progress--I don't really do that well. I used to be OCD, for crying out loud--now, it's a victory to make my bed. (Well, that's usually 'cause there's always someone IN it--furry or not). I cannot stand routine. It wears on me like a burr under a saddle. It's the irremovable rash; the buildup of bubbles in a shaken soda pop--I cannot bear it for long. That's why this is a victory. Somehow to see the ordinary world in shades of color other than gray (figuratively). Ok--this is starting to be whining instead of explaining, so I'll stop now. 
What I get from all this is that I am still trying to justify or excuse what I am and how I feel, to put myself in the same category as people without my illness. That's what all the whining and explaining is really about. Maybe with all this elucidation I will figure that out more than intellectually. 
More tomorrow.