Today the arm is more sore and now decorated with a pinprick rash, and my throat and head hurt so bad I've drunk a whole container of grapefruit juice in a day. Ben is telling me to sleep, Lochlan wants me to stay awake, Caleb just wants to see the meds keep coming so I don't bolt or hide or turn myself inside out. I wanted to sew some things and I wanted to watch a movie but I don't have the energy for either. I feel like I've lost control of my life and the only way to quell the panic comes in the form of a fistful of pills from Lochlan (or PJ or Caleb) every eight to twelve hours and then I have a little respite.
Or I'm allergic and the rash is from that and not the booster shot and I feel kind of dumb, as we seem to be a few short weeks away from dropping all the mandates, all the passports, all the requirements and I still think I want to be a recluse but then I also want to go to a concert or hell, eat a Monte Cristo in the booth at my favourite spot that makes them, since they add turkey and it's real turkey, not lunchmeat-turkey but I also liked grocery shopping at seven in the morning and I liked the excuse of just staying in.
Maybe I should live in my bed. The hermit-starlet. The reckless recluse. The grieving little monster, always.