I spent most of yesterday on the couch a little less congested than the day before, my throat not as raw. Jon was sick too and we guessed he had food poisoning because it lasted 24 hours. By yesterday afternoon he was better, but the more I slept the more tired I was.
I had strange dreams about transgender dogs and having to protect a crying baby. In one dream two friends and I were in search of a mystic. In that dream, I held an owl in one arm and a vulture in the other.
It probably had something to do with the book I was reading, The Cloisters by Katy Hays. A mystery that takes place in The Cloisters. It brought me back to the times I had visited the museum and made me want to go again.
Of course, I worried it was covid. It’s on the rise again in our area. People we know who have had it two and three times or more. “Ugh,” I texted our friend who we had planned to have dinner with on Saturday, “you can’t even just have a cold anymore.” I was more worried about Jon getting it again.
But we’re lucky, it was just food poisoning and a cold.
I had the itch to make myself some Chicken meatball soup. I took the chopped chicken out of the freezer to defrost and Jon even went out and bought some eggs (the hens have stopped laying again) but I didn’t have the energy.
So I sat on the couch instead with Minnie next to me or Bud curled up in the crook of my legs and took advantage doing as little as possible and allowing myself to heal.