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Darkness knows itself by name
I don't have COVID-19. But I had to get up at sleepless o'clock to be tested and it rendered the rest of the day effectively useless for anything beyond telecommunicating with the follow-up doctor in the afternoon, who did not at that time have my test results but was pretty sure from my symptoms and my accounting of the last month that I just had a respiratory crud. Then I had an asthma attack in the evening from our new upstairs neighbors' weed smoke drifting down the stairwell into my office—which really makes me feel safe about our pandemic air quality—and there is now a faint smell of burning electronics in our apartment, even though all of our computers appear to be safe. It was not the motor of the box fan which I had to prop in my office window in order to get the smoke out into the falling snow. I desperately want to be doing something with my brain, but I think what I may need to do with it is go to sleep.
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Thank you!
That stuff reeks horribly, and most of the people I know don't find it nearly as mildewed skunk spray foul as I do.
I used to find a range of it aesthetically inoffensive and a range of it aesthetically gross, but now that it causes me literal and immediate difficulty breathing, I'm a lot less friendly to the entire concept.