Well, it got me.
It finally got me.
I thought it was allergies because that is exactly what it felt like — earaches, which I get at my age as a fully-grown adult and it’s super fun — and congestion, maybe some head fuzziness but I’ve lived with that since having kids, so it’s hard to tell when or if the fuzz has reached levels worthy of alarm or not. For example, I often ask my kids the exact same question multiple times in a row.
Me: “Did you remember to return that book to the library?”
No: 3: “Yes.”
Me: “Oh, did I ask if you remembered to return that book to the library?”
No. 3: “Yes, 5 seconds ago.”
Me: “Oops. And what was your answer?”
This, to me, counts as typical fuzzies, and it’s a normal byproduct of parenting because kids tend to ask A LOT of repetitive questions for the first 3-4 years of life, so it’s only natural to
tune them out dial back the attentiveness, which can, uh, kinda sorta linger as they get older.
But anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah. So, I assumed the ear nonsense was allergies and popped a pill, allergy, thankyoueverymuch. When I didn’t start to feel better, the uneasiness crept up. You know what else feels like allergies…
I’ve been careful, double-masking even, but there was that one high school basketball game I attended out in the hinterlands where masking — and parking between the lines — was optional. I kept my distance but who knows? From what I’ve read, omicron is so prevalent and everywhere that it’s unavoidable.
I’m vaxxed and boosted and won’t die, although, honestly, I am definitely losing it being stuck in my room. I would not do well under house arrest. If I were a dude, confined with an iPad and easy access to a toilet, I’d be fine. But I’m not.
Could I be doing something productive, like rearranging my shoes or Marie Kondoing my wardrobe? Maybe BUT I DON’T FEEL LIKE IT. ALSO, GUESS WHO JUST DISCOVERED, 12 YEARS LATER, THAT THERE IS A CAPS LOCK ON THE IPAD?! I don’t know why I even bothered to drink coffee this morning. I should probably just freebase melatonin for the duration of quarantine.
I ought to feel giddy about my free pass from momness — no dinner fixing or cleaning or letting the dogs in and out 367 times a day or managing everyone else’s lives — but I feel so cut off in my three-quarter bathroom-included isolation chamber, even with No. 2’s frequent texts and FaceTimes, which she actually did even before I was stuck in my room.
So why am I even writing this? I’m going to blame the fuzzies for losing track of my point, which is what again?
Oh yeah, COVID, no matter what flavor, sucks. Big time.
Stay safe, everyone.
Epilogue: So, that was me, whining, because that’s what I do and also because that’s how I try to feel better about the sucky things in life by writing it out and joking about them. I do, of course, realize how very lucky I am to have caught this after a vaccine was created. And I realize how very, very, VERY lucky I am to have such wonderful, caring people in my life who are working so hard at lifting my spirits with texts and FaceTime and treats left on my doorstep. It makes me feel special, maybe too special, because now I feel longhaul COVID coming on. Ha. Never. I miss my little, regular life and seeing all my beloved people in it.