Covid thoroughly kicked my butt. I don't even know how I got it. I haven't hung out with anyone in ages, I'm vaccinated, I wear my mask everywhere, and somehow the bastard still managed to sneak in.
I started feeling funny around the 10th. Not like sick, but just kinda...not right, like maybe the way you might feel when you had a bad hangover two days ago. And I never really got sick sick, even when it was at its worst.
But here I am, 18 days later, and I still can't stay awake for more than 6 hours at a stretch without feeling like I need 6 hours of sleep to make up for it. My schedule is all kinds of jacked up. I'm awake at 4am doing random ass bloggy shit because now I can't sleep. Awesome possum.
On the bright side, I realized that I have not once bitten my nails during this whole thing, and as a life long, high stress nail biter, this can only be explained as an act of god, or fate, or some recently acquired but unacknowledged sense of willpower. Like holy fuck, dude, I have FINGERNAILS. wut wut.
Aaaaand I got a spoon. A certain someone got tired of seeing me use a bright orange measuring spoon to scoop out doses of my Mist of Mystic Mysticism during tarot, so I got a pretty spoon out of the deal. Huzzah for pity gifts! All of my snapchat friends
For the record, I hate coke. All it did was make my teeth feel hollow and gave me the nastiest drip, the one time I ever did it. This will 100% be used for dumping resin on hot coals, and looking cool while doing it.
Cute, yah?
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