Run For Your Life

I slept the best that I’ve slept for at least a month last night, and woke up mere seconds before my alarm went off, ready to face the day. I had plenty of time to get to work a couple minutes early and prepared myself a perfect cup of coffee for our meeting. Brody was told to come on down to the shop in spite of his masked status, so I just tried to keep my distance, and wore my mask any time we had to cross paths. Fortunately I was still able to help him over the phone after he left, because that’s what I did most of the day.

A group of us went to Quiznos for lunch, and I think they gave me a sandwich that was larger than they should have for my sandwich and soup combo. The chicken tortilla soup was awesome, but I dropped the last half of it in the floor on accident because we were trying to eat around a table that was simply too small for five of us.

I finally finished up my CPPC meeting minutes draft after staying half an hour late, and then headed home to get another package that had been intercepted by either Bác Vân or Doug. It’s really more annoying than anything, but I guess I’ll appreciate it more if I ever have something irreplaceable stolen.

I don’t think Autumn went to school, and instead was supposed to get a COVID test done because she said she hadn’t been feeling well the last couple of days. Summer got home late, but said Autumn was “ok,” which I thought meant she had a negative test. When I got to their house, I had gotten no more than two spoonfuls of soup into my mouth when Autumn said something about still being sick but not knowing what it was.

After wrestling with her in the bedroom, I knew I had to drop everything to wash up. Autumn is by far the least hygienic of any of the kids, so even when she’s not sick, touching her usually warrants a handwash. She’s embarrassingly disgusting almost all of the time, but this time I was literally afraid for my life. I still remember COVID. Nobody around me seems to be taking it at all seriously, and I just assume I’ll be the one to pay for it.

I ran out the door for home, shaking and crying out of some emotion or another. I had the worst fever of my entire life when I got COVID last year. The pneumonia had me down for weeks afterward, and I still have panic attacks that appear to just be a normal part of my life now. It’s uncontrollable and terrifying, but I deal with it well because of how self aware I am. Maybe that gives off a vibe that I’m not worried about it, but I’m actually always scared.

I shook it off the best I could when I got home. When I finally got settled in, I put on Don’t Look Up to get my mind off of things. As soon as the movie was over, it was straight to the bottle, though.

Maybe this isn’t working.

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