I didn't plan to, but I holed up this week. I worked Tuesday night, and when I got up on Wednesday my pilot light had been out on the water heater and it was SEVEN degrees outside, so I decided to put on clean sweats and lie on the couch and read. I ended up falling back asleep. I got up and ordered takeout in the middle of the night and then slept most of the day Thursday too.
I was drinking coffee and attempting to feel less sluglike when I saw Annie (my 7-month-old puppy) puff up like a balloon. Her eyelids got huge and pink, her snout puffed out, and she was shaking her head and running around like she was trying to escape from herself. She almost immediately started sort of coughing, so I pulled on boots and a hat and threw her in the car. She was in anaphylaxis, and I still don't know why. My vet is about 10 minutes away and by the time I ran in, not at all calmly, may I add, Annie was drooling and wide-eyed, barely conscious. After epi and steroids she seems OK today. But I'm afraid to leave her.
So after all of that I didn't want to take my eyes off of her long enough to go anywhere or even shower, plus it was still cold, and I figured I hadn't been working in a coal mine or anything, so the dogs and I spent another evening on the couch with takeout.
And I slept all day today because I work all weekend. I took a shower that probably ran out most of the water heater tank. I'm pretty good at being a slug, but I overdid it this time. Too much takeout, too much sleep, not enough getting stuff done, although I did read three books and spent at least an hour every day on the probably ill-fated novel I'm writing.
I just felt too exhausted to do anything. The only reasons I have for this are this stupid flu virus which takes fracking WEEKS to fully resolve, the weather, and particularly bad anxiety, which always makes me eventually just want to sleep all the time to avoid feeling anxious. Having my dog almost die helped none of this.
Thank God she's OK and I'm OK and everyone is OK. And, now, clean. I'm looking forward to work because I know I will feel better getting out of the house and interacting with other humans, and most of the time I feel somehow validated by my job ("I did something productive!" if not "I helped save someone's life!"). I just know I will freak out a little all night worrying about Annie. My vet said I should tell people she's a miniature mastiff instead of a pit bull, and this cracks me up, so I think I will start doing that...