Despite being fully vaccinated, everyone in my family has Covid. We were on a trip when symptoms first emerged, all five of us sleeping in the same hotel room and breathing the same air, so the spread seemed inevitable.
Now we're back home and quarantining until we're safe to reenter society. Thankfully, the kids' mild symptoms already have run their course and, as of this morning, Joel seems to have turned a corner. I'm still dragging, though.
This bout of Covid reminded me that I'm not good at resting, at least not initially. Yesterday morning I lamely attempted to work in the yard and tend to plants that had been neglected during our time away, but even that small effort sapped my strength. When I shuffled back into the kitchen to get a glass of water, Joel took one glance at me and said, "Looks like you've hit the wall." (He had this backwards. The wall hit me.)
Today I've been smarter. I've stayed in bed all day, taking Tylenol to ward off body aches and chills, drifting in and out of sleep, periodically flipping through a book and magazines, and staying hydrated. My cat, Peanut, has stationed herself at my feet, faithfully watching over me when she's not napping herself.
I've listened to sounds of people living their lives -- cars driving down the street, a neighbor cutting the grass -- but everything feels hazy, like I'm moving and thinking more slowly than the rest of the world.
Part of this cognitive impairment, I'm sure, is attributable to the virus itself. I'm guessing that another part is self-induced. Last night I couldn't fall asleep easily, so after coughing, tossing, and turning for over an hour, I grabbed my phone against my better judgment. My Covid-ridden brain remembered I once saw a YouTube video of David Beckham perfectly catching a stray ball while spectating a tennis match, and I had a sudden urge to watch that clip.
Obviously.
Of course, this spiraled into me watching a compilation of Top Ten Blind Auditions on The Voice (I don't even watch that show), then finding random videos of celebrities impersonating other celebrities (Chris Hemsworth does an uncanny Chris Pratt impression), followed by videos of actors who are surprisingly good dancers (Tom Holland has moves), and then rabbit hole descent into Pinterest tutorials all titled something like "Ten DIY Summer Wreaths" or "Organizing on a Dime."
At some point in the mindless scrolling, I absolutely realized I was sabotaging my sleep. I had this exact thought: But Robin, at this point, you know that not even wild horses could drag you away from this collection of Office bloopers.
And then I promptly had this thought: how weird is that expression? Wild horses? When's the last time I was trying to achieve something and actually was thwarted by a herd of wild horses? Well, I was thinking about getting groceries but, you know (hapless shrug), wild horses...
I'd like to blame this derailed train of thinking on the low-grade fever, but people, I'm pretty sure this is just how my mind works at 2 in the morning.
So, if you're looking for me over the next few days, I'll be holed up in my bedroom. I have an excellent guard cat and an endless supply of diversion until I'm back on my feet again. And when it's time for me to safely rejoin society after quarantine? Not even wild horses will keep me away.
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