Day eight since exposure, day two of conscious quarantine. So far, so good. I did basically nothing for most of the day. I was planning to report that I have zero symptoms, but something weird happened about half an hour ago. I got uncomfortably warm, had to have a fan turned on to blow across the bed, and then I experienced something completely alien to me. My skin got sort of damp. Normal people will read that and wonder why that is remarkable. You need to understand that I have not been able to sweat since at least 1995. (Don’t ask why I know the date. Trust me that I do.) I didn’t sweat a lot, but I did it all over, which is startling. I’ve had a few days over two and a half decades, living in humid climates, when my upper lip got damp or bras got swampy, but actual sweat was beyond my capacity. This was slightly more than that. Just now I took my temperature, just to be sure, and it was only up a single degree from average. I can’t infer anything from that, good or bad. So do I have the Rona? Still no idea. Will stay inside tomorrow too, and every day for a week, until I know.
I planned on doing fun things today. It was Unofficial International Bob Day. This is the day when we are supposed to bake cookies and give them away, to friends, family, strangers, enemies... It all started many years ago, when my cousin decided he didn’t need birthday gifts for himself anymore. He was satisfied with what he had, and he wanted the goodwill of birthday wishes to turn outwards instead. He asked all of us in his circle of influence to bake cookies, and then send pictures of us giving them away. The tradition stuck, and now it is really a thing with him. I haven’t managed to do it every year, but I always feel good when I succeed in doing it.
I messed my cookies up a little this time. I didn’t measure accurately. I kind of eyeballed everything. I used the gluten free recipe I got off Pinterest, the one that directs me to brown the butter first, so the dough smells like caramel. It also calls for milk, just a splash, and I used too much. My cookies were super flat, and didn’t hold together too well. Since I was staying home, Mr S-P broke quarantine to take some next door, and to play several rounds of Call of Duty while he was there. I sure hope cookies are all that he gave away by being there. Keeping that man home for real quarantine, if I end up positive and he’s then one degree away, will be the hardest thing in the world.
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