Here I thought I was making such great progress. I showered for only the second time since last Friday. I put on real clothes. I left the house (mostly stayed in the car, except when we gave a gallon of milk for Valerie, since we weren't going to get to it by its sell-by date). I ate actual food, the takeout from Post that we went out to acquire. Then I coughed so hard I nearly peed myself. I took NyQuil as dessert after lunch, put back on jammies, and slept hard in my chair. Little steps forward, little stumbles back.
The Mr is basically through his plague journey. He has permission from his school to teach in person tomorrow, obviously masked. I feel mostly fine, except for the unrelenting post-nasal drip causing all of my coughing woes. I am a bit foggy-headed, and my game-play on Jackbox suffered somewhat for it. I might actually be back to normal in a day or two.
I totally stole the photo for today. I had nothing, and I don't want to stand up to find something here, or take a selfie of me with deep shadows around my eyes. I'll put up another proof of life of myself tomorrow, maybe. Pretend this was how I looked around 3 this afternoon, dreaming about the house I lived in when I was in 5th grade.
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