Quarantine is nearly done. To what end? I am almost ready to go back out, just in time for people who exposed themselves meeting up for Thanksgiving to be wandering around, shedding virus before they know they too are positive. I need to restock on half and half, Saoirse is almost out of dehydrated raw food, and Bruno and Dahlia, my anole lizards, need a fresh bag of crickets. Do I even dare to go to those stores? I have to, but for the next few weeks, it's going to feel like I'm going out on a supply raid from one of the early seasons of Walking Dead. I have to assume danger is lurking at every turn.
I'll take Saoirse with me to the pet store. She is getting cabin fever even worse than we are. She has all that adolescent energy fizzing through her. She's bored and testing me to see how many times I will stand up to let her through a door. She doesn't care which door. She just likes walking through them. This is the puppy version of the baby game where they throw their toy on the ground fifteen times, and mommy reaches down to get it every time.
I've got nothing else. I got into something that I'm allergic to (probably dust), and now I'm itchy and sneezy, and I'm losing interest in writing rapidly. Maybe it'll all be more exciting once I'm not trapped in the house, at least not this tightly.
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