Oddly, I felt the exact moment I came down with Covid - last Tuesday I was feeling quite well, good even, until about 7pm. I had been to work, had dinner, given the children their baths (it being my turn), and was taking a short break between that and putting Funsize to bed. During this interlude I did the washing up, and it was while doing that that I suddenly felt awful - aching all over, sore head, and just generally crap. The next morning I took a test, and sure enough that was that.
Which all rather sucks.
Right now, government policy is that we've beaten Covid, which may be utter nonsense, but there it is, which means that there are legally no restrictions at all. However, work take a considerably more sensible position - I was off on Wednesday (and Thursday and Friday) by virtue of not feeling well, but I'm also back to working from home until such time as I test negative for two days. That said, since I'm also working from home in the final week of September (for other reasons), I may not actually be back to the office any time soon.
I'm actually feeling more or less okay now. Indeed, by some cruel twist of events, it seems that for much of the past weekend I've actually been the least ill person in the house much of the time. So much for it being my turn.
But, more than anything, I'm rather annoyed at all of this - it was Robert's funeral on Saturday, which of course I was unable to attend. Gutted.
#25: "Memories of Holdenshire", by Andrew Engelbrite, Sen. H.H.S, and Savannah Broadway
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