The ur-cold feeling in the back of my throat is getting worse. I feel alternately feverish and chilled. Worse than my usual "too-hot/too-cold" lack of body temperature control.
Which is, I have found out, one of the multiple comorbs that happen with ASD. Yay.
We were running around, yesterday, so I only got 500 words in during the events of the day. Still, progress is progress and I swore I would not fuss.
1K during an entire weekend feels like a cheev.
So now I have to talk with my Beloved and work out how the quarantine procedure is going to work. Stuff they're willing to do balanced against stuff that could endanger the lives of clueless anti-vaxxers everywhere.
I may dislike their anti-science, but I'm not going to inflict my diseases on their innocent kids. Chicken pox is a firkin killer, my dear readers. You can look it up.
No sign of any kind of rash, but it's clear that I'm getting sicker. I'm keeping myself isolated just in case. If this is a potential plague, then I'm not starting it.
And it's a good thing that I am going into quarantine, because the reactions to the latest chapter of Random Encounters has been... rather angry. I've got two chapters to go before the one where they'll really want to kill me.
Considering the reactions today... I'm kind'a dreading my life in a couple of days' time. I'm thinking about putting up a spoiler [encoded of course] for the peeps who might be angry about all of this.
In the meantime, I'm giving all of the "Where's my baby" style commenters a little fun postulation about where Ango's gone.