I’m in bed. Technically alive, but spiritually held together with soup, tissues, and regret.

I have a fever, a returning migraine, and the flu has held me hostage for four days now. My body is basically 68% mucus and 32% betrayal.

Earlier today, I felt okay!!!!
Likeeee, “Hey, maybe I’m winning this flu battle” kind of okay. So I decided to venture out! yes, venture to the grocery store.

Now I’m sweating, shivering, wrapped in a cocoon of mismatched blankets like a sick caterpillar who may never become a butterfly.

I fall asleep.
Then I wake up 7 minutes later.


Why?
No one knows. Maybe my brain remembered an embarrassing moment from 2011. Maybe my fever decided sleep was "too healing." Maybe the gods were bored.

Then SW.
I fall asleep again.
Wake up again.

I try to sit up. My body says, “Absolutely not, sweetheart.” I lie back down. My blanket has now fused with my soul.
I am the blanket. 😐

The cycle continues...
Sleep. Wake. Sweat. Shiver. Sneeze. Regret. Repeat.

And then…

I have officially become a human burrito. 🌯

Anyway.....
“Please send soup. And mercy. And maybe a tiny miracle.” 🫩