This time the “don’t get sick” option didn’t fly, and so here I am in my pajamas sick as a dog. I realize as I wait for the bath to fill that one of the reasons I seem to pick up little viruses so easily when run down isn’t just
I could hang back, wear a little white mask, lean away when others lean forward, but what would be the point? Sometimes there’s just no cure for happiness and that yearning to connect no matter what invisible travelers pass from someone else to my happy but too-tired-to-fight immune system. So a few days after, when the who-knows-what stomach-sinus-head dealie lands, I lay low. And I don’t regret a single hug.
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