So I had my shot shortly after two in the afternoon and by midnight I was essentially useless for anything other than sending ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
selkie clips of Nigel Havers in Chariots of Fire (1981), who in no other role has especially reminded me of Peter Wimsey and here the obvious casting not taken just sort of stepped out and whacked me with a punt pole. My arm hurt, my head hurt, I felt exactly as though I had a fever even though the thermometer begged to disagree; I took it as a sign that my immune system was doing something. I fell asleep shortly after two in the morning and slept like a rock until a quarter after three in the afternoon, with allowances made for the fact that I woke every single time I rolled onto my arm because it hurt so much. It still hurts. It hurts in repose and it hurts extra whenever I stretch or reach for something. The sensation of fever seems to have gone, but I feel generally light-headed and washed out and am having a hard time making myself do anything other than stare in a slightly unfocused way. On the other hand, in the absence of rash or other alarming symptoms. I think I am well within the parameters for normal vaccine reactions, even for flu shots. I resent not being able to remember any longer the chain of cinematically vivid dreams of which the last and strongest involved small monsters and matchmaking and scrambling over roofs in conjunction with a house that had opinions of its own; I think it might technically have been a rom-com. With some overtones of Danny Kaye. We now return to your irregularly scheduled unfocused staring.
selkie clips of Nigel Havers in Chariots of Fire (1981), who in no other role has especially reminded me of Peter Wimsey and here the obvious casting not taken just sort of stepped out and whacked me with a punt pole. My arm hurt, my head hurt, I felt exactly as though I had a fever even though the thermometer begged to disagree; I took it as a sign that my immune system was doing something. I fell asleep shortly after two in the morning and slept like a rock until a quarter after three in the afternoon, with allowances made for the fact that I woke every single time I rolled onto my arm because it hurt so much. It still hurts. It hurts in repose and it hurts extra whenever I stretch or reach for something. The sensation of fever seems to have gone, but I feel generally light-headed and washed out and am having a hard time making myself do anything other than stare in a slightly unfocused way. On the other hand, in the absence of rash or other alarming symptoms. I think I am well within the parameters for normal vaccine reactions, even for flu shots. I resent not being able to remember any longer the chain of cinematically vivid dreams of which the last and strongest involved small monsters and matchmaking and scrambling over roofs in conjunction with a house that had opinions of its own; I think it might technically have been a rom-com. With some overtones of Danny Kaye. We now return to your irregularly scheduled unfocused staring.
