I miss my bruises and I feel like I am losing my positioning
On the physical plane, I am just not doing very well. Among other things, I seem to have had an asthma attack last night. It was unpleasant. I would prefer not to repeat the experience. I meant to go out this afternoon into the brilliantly frigid sunlight and photograph whatever had not been mid-May frost-killed, but instead I finished my work and then I lay motionless on the couch. I appreciate the friend who is not on DW who sent me news of both masked hamsters and antibody llamas. My mother sent a few seconds of video in which she captured the bald eagle circling and calling over my parents' house. I am going to return to the couch and read Jean Webster's Daddy-Long-Legs (1912), which feels like it should be a re-read, except I don't recognize any of it.

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Thank you! I did not and do not appreciate it!
I feel like this entire quarantine situation is proving that I am incapable of surviving without regular access to medical care and it's not like I didn't know already that in your traditional literary-cinematic apocalypse I would be one of the tragic intellectual vestiges of the old world that just couldn't compete with motorcycle rape gangs, but I am really not enjoying how physically unstable I feel right now.
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I felt so awful today, I didn't even think of calling a doctor. I'll speak to someone tomorrow. Thank you for reminding me.
At least if we're Peter Ustinov in Logan's Run, we get lots of cats.