Or something like that. In yesterday’s (12/18) morning name, which beats anything I’ve come up with before all hollow: the truly bizarre name I’ll spell Tits Varnishke, where the LN is pronounced /várnɪški/. Even more bizarrely, in whatever fever-dream fantasy gave rise to the name, it referred to a gangster.
Background. I’m in day 3 of what I think of as sick-day leave, when my usual responsibilities are lifted (though I try to do at least one small useful thing each day) and, because the illness is respiratory, I am even further isolated than before (and live behind a mask when people are obliged to be near me).
This is on top of all the other afflictions affecting me; at first it was just a very bad head cold, but then it took in my chest as well, so it hurts to breathe. I sleep sitting up in my recliner chair and I feel really crappy, but it’s just a cold. (My 02 stays at 97% or better, despite all the junk I cough up, and I have only occasional periods of a little bit of fever. I’m an old acquaintance of bronchitis and pneumonia, which I would recognize, but all I have now is a wretched cold. It will pass. There’s no reason to think it’s COVID, but I’ll check tomorrow.)
Mostly the rule is: if you have a respiratory virus, STAY HOME; don’t go to work or wherever and expose other people to your virus. Especially now, when respiratory illnesses are at very high levels.
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