Someone opined to me that I probably have the COVID, then added, "Though I know you're not going to do anything about it anyway."
Yes, well: What would I do about it regardless? A sore throat has joined with the general congestion. Over the last couple of days, my attempts to use the nasal rinse that I regularly do has resulted in the water all but declaring, "I am forestalled!" and not making it through. The C-Dawg is blocked.
I'll tell you what is a mystery to me, though: Where people get all of these COVID tests. When I'm at the CVS, I never see COVID tests. There is not some COVID test section. I feel like if CVS had COVID tests, I'd know about it. And if you can't get a test at CVS, then it seems to me like it's kind of inconvenient to get. But, to quote the Libertines, I wouldn't know about that anyway.
No stairs for me yesterday. I ran 3000 stairs at City Hall on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. 100 push-ups yesterday, and 200 on both Saturday and Sunday.
It was pretty dumb to run the stairs on Monday, I confess. Was very early, and the stairs were covered in ice, some snow, and slippery to say the least. I can't be falling and cracking my head open, so I went slowly and carefully. Picked my way up and down--especially down. Falling in the downward direction is where the most damage gets done.
Sunday marked 2737 days, or 391 weeks, without a drink.
Broth is one of those words that when you say it, you almost feel yourself getting better. "I think I'll have some broth." I haven't had any broth. Still, I like to think of myself as a knight errant having returned from an arduous undertaking of rarefied heroism and quietly taking some broth in his chambers so as to be read for what must be done the following morrow.