By now I have been joking for so long about my psychosomatic COVID that Mary basically won't listen to me, and how could I blame her? Of course I don't really have any symptoms except some sniffles, which are pretty common and are probably just allergies that we are too lazy to abate around the house -- my dust mite allergy, for example -- and the fact that I am bone tired.
Today I slept till 7:40. Turns out nothing was wrong with my alarm clock save for what the immortal George Costanza termed "the AM/PM." Dooohh!
This bone tiredness of course is highly adducible to how long it's been since I had a proper vacation, and also to the fact that so many of my activities outside of work are quasi-work like. Like the fact that I am grinding through a book -- Scott Anderson's The Quiet Americans -- that I didn't choose for myself but instead got from a book group. It's 470 pages of smallish type about the early history of the CIA. For sure I am learning a lot, but it's kind of like work.
Thank God for TV. I am totally enjoying Sex Education. It gets a little ridiculous here and there but it is always warm-hearted if a little snarky and it seems like every episode another character gets deeper. Of course the skinny geek in me continues to just root for Otis and Maeve to get together, but I can also accept that it's not really that important in the end.
I should also, honestly, accept the fact that it's unlikely that I blog more in 2022 than I did in 2021, instead of trying to live up to it.
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