Day 7 – I think. Who knows.

Covid. Day 7. I think. Who really knows. I’m at the point I have to look at a calendar to know what day of the week it is and then count in my fingers.

I’m pathetic. I’m no longer convinced I’m dying. Now I’m just convinced my brain has turned to slimy mush. My body aches are better. My headache and fatigue are worse. I’m sure that’s because the steroids are done. My lungs are holding their own. Angrily. Annoyedly. But holding.

I’m amazed I know my own name. I’ve asked repeatedly for people to get things from my work – paycheck, W2, note to my boss. Yet every time I give them the wrong restaurant name. Wtf. I know where I work. I don’t even eat at this other place. My brain says different.

I generally feel smart. So this is all frustrating. It was funny the first time. Now I have to think hard before I speak.

My brilliant idea was to work remote for the state. That went – well. Not. I made it 8 hours. Achievement. But by the end I was useless. My last client I talked to suggested he wasn’t going to email me paperwork and we’d do it next week. Good call kid. Good call. Maybe I should go to bed. Maybe you’re right. I’m sure he thought I was losing it. I am.

My boss said to try and take it easy. I scheduled two new enrollments for tomorrow. After that I may want to go back to bed. Because using this brain all day did me no favors. None. Ugh.

Today my mom, daughter & 2 grandkids all tested positive. Stepdad and son are negative. Knock on wood. I haven’t been around any of these people since January 8th. So couldn’t be me.

I wish people would stay home and quit spreading this shit. As someone who relies on waitressing and tips to pay bills – I’d be okay with something, anything, to actually curve the spread.

With that. I have to sleep and try to find a way to grow new brain cells that actually work.