During the long week between Christmas and New Year’s, I found myself struggling against some manner of illness (not The Virus, it seems, thank goodness). I ran a low-grade fever for a couple of days, then suffered with a sore throat and some fatigue for a few days afterwards. Fortunately, with the week off, I was able to hole up in Port Manor in Lamar, and regular reader and neighbor Bernard Fife brought me some homemade Christmas treats (and an at-home COVID-19 test, which came back negative).
I typically spend the holidays with my parents, or at least surrounded by family. That was the case leading up to Christmas, but my mystery malady thwarted my plans to return to my childhood home. Instead, from Tuesday (when the symptoms started coming on) through Sunday, I largely stayed home, with some occasional outings for groceries and the like as my condition began to improve (and once I realized I’d avoided the scourge of The Virus).
Needless to say, that is a lot of time at home. I am very much a homebody, and like being there, but the demands of work, lessons, family, friends, and all the other social and professional obligations I get myself into mean I rarely get days alone at home.
Be careful what you wish for: I had six days at home thanks to illness. Had it not been for being sick, though, it would have been glorious. Even so, it was pretty great.