At about five o'clock this morning, just after I'd finally given up on the idea of tearing out my tongue, I finally fell asleep. At exactly 05.45 my Covid results arrived, by text and email simultaneously.
It's good that I don't have it, but in reality I didn't have it at 13.45 on the 23rd of December. Who knows whom or what I've touched since then.
I've been washing my hands religiously.
Perhaps just a little too often.
However, until I've had the jab, perhaps sooner now that the Pfizer version is rolling, I might as well have the test every day. I have to work on New Year's eve. It's going to be difficult removing the Christmas decorations from a restaurant burdened by motorcycle gloves, crash helmet, gas mask and a handy flame thrower.
I'll make do.
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