I woke up still feeling sick. I decided to call out sick from work and rest up in the hopes of being able to go to the work retreat tomorrow morning. I had some interesting dreams that I remembered. Though none with Ambrose.
i planned to spend all day in or near bed, but then I learned that my sister-in-law had tested positive for Covid. I felt it wouldn’t be right if I went into work tomorrow without testing, so I found a place that sold at home tests and ventured out to get some.
And while I was out, I picked up the tea that I’d forgotten to get yesterday for throat soothing. Plus some Lysol spray to try and disinfect my living space a bit. And a milkshake and french fries.
My home test came back with a negative, so whether I go to work tomorrow is still up in the air. I might feel better tomorrow, or I might not. I’m going to get up early and see how I feel. I’ve actually been looking forward to this event for a while now. But no one is going to thank me for bringing in germs to share, and I’m pretty sure this cough is here to stay.
I’ll have to ask myself in the morning, what would Ambrose tell me to do? I don’t think it’s likely that I’m going to wake up feeling entirely well. But I feel really bad for missing on this work thing. I missed the last one because of my eye surgery. I made it to the one last January, but missed the prior fall one because of Ambrose’s death. One out of the last four doesn’t sit well with me, but I can’t help having gotten sick.
I hate having to make this decision. I did everything I could to avoid getting sick over break and I still got sick at the worst possible time.
On the way home, the neighborhood goose gang attacked my car.
There’s snow on the mountains, but none by me.
