I’ve been sleeping a lot over the last couple of days. Normally, I don’t sleep very much. Probably not as much as I should sleep. I can’t help it; I find life too interesting. I don’t siesta much either – I wake up too grumpy if I do.
At least bedtime tends to be early on Quest. We have lights on the boat, but out on the anchorage without tv, life is not too dissimilar to camping life. Go to bed with the sun, get up with the dawn. Especially since the temperature doesn’t vary much.
Then, after the wind reversal this week, I’ve found myself catching a bit of a cold. We went out for dinner for Phillipe’s good-bye dinner. The next day, my throat glands began to feel swollen.
My head – while not exactly in migraine mode – started to feel out of it. Since then my chest is a tiny bit sore. Chest infections tend to be my weak spot. The amount of times I’ve tried to tough it out with a sore chest and ended up on antibiotics.
Well not this time. This time, I’m checking my temperature and any sign of a cough – none so far – and curling up to sleep. No more toughing it out. The pandemic has stopped all that.
Slight sigh of relief there. This feels a definite change from life before. I haven’t had a cold since the beginning of the pandemic. Don’t have to carry on as normal anymore. Don’t have to keep a stiff upper lip. Certainly no one wants to be around you, catching anything.
Nope, you can lie in bed now, hiding under the covers and hoping that all it is is a cold. Declare to your family gravely you hope it isn’t Covid. ‘I hope it isn’t Covid.’ Get sympathy in the form of, ‘Well, if it is, then you’ve given it to all of us.’
Stop and breathe. Time for another nap. I dream of Delph’s new blue hair streaks Shona put in. Eating Shona’s banana fritters helps too. And Patrice offered to find Lu a new maths tutor. I hope Phillipe is ok in Paris. Sleeping is the new staying awake.