After almost a week of malady, yesterday I finally tested negative for COVID. Subsequently, today I ventured out of my apartment for the first time since Christmas Day; today’s writing venue the front room of my beau Sarah’s home.
As she is working, I’ve volunteered to sit with her adorable German Shepherd Zella. The furry lass currently laid on her bed in the kitchen. Zella that is, not Sarah… Sazza’s bed is in the cellar… Well, more torture chamber if truth be told. An alarming place complete with punishment rack, witch’s cauldron and a smart speaker which pipes her ‘Now, That’s What I Call Shite Music’ playlist on a loop.
After a childhood fall down a flight of my grandma’s cellar stairs, I have a phobia of venturing down into these dark chambers. So, unless Sarah tricks me into her lair, or procures a bottle of Rohypnol you’ll not find me venturing downwhere the sun does not shine. I am keen not to add rickets to my already burgeoning ailment rap sheet!
Despite just having a walk to the local green and devouring the left-over ham I’d brought her, every few minutes Zells sighs despondently from the kitchen. Blooming ungrateful bitch. Incidentally I am utilising the noun bitch as old furry face (still Zella, not Sarah) is a female dog, not as a disparaging slur.
In my defence, I wanted to take the enchanting German Shepherd on a walk further afield, however prevailing precipitation closed that potential avenue of pleasure. Consequently, she had to make do with a couple of laps of the village green.
Zella has just sighed again. Incidentally, I have just had to edit the previous sentence after inadvertently writing the word ‘signed’ instead of ‘sighed’. She is a smart dog; however I’d venture she will not possess the skillset to sign. A shortfall which could be a bind if she meets deaf people… On reflection, though, I guess an individual with hearing loss could easily lip read her bark.
It is great to see Zells after a week of self-isolation. Well, if truth be told, it’s great to see anyone after a week of self-isolation!
The fatigue, shivers and fatigue for the past few days have been overbearing… And, yes I know I have written fatigue twice. It wasn’t an error; I have just been very fatigued.
I am due back at work tomorrow, which will hopefully not be too much of a chore with the remnants of COVID symptoms not completely gone. My role of stacking fresh produce on shelves is a fairly physical role, which I am hoping won’t pose too much of a problem for my still recuperating body.
As I write I hold great reservations about whether I really want to fulfil a part-time role. Sitting here in a post-COVID brain fog, returning back into retirement seems a ever more appealing lifestyle change by the day.
I have no gripes with any aspect of the role per sa. But one of my many personalities has concluded he no longer wishes to work within the retail sector. If he can persuade the other less idle personalities it is a good move, I’ll be back retired, filling in my time writing, drawing and flipping cards into a top hat.
Anyhow, I need to go as Zella has just wandered into the room and signed that she wants her lunch… Blimey, who would have credited it!
I liked it. And needed to laugh. Can’t sleep can’t eat. Taking it minute by minute. Thank you for your help