COVID World, Sixty-One

The sky was a bit cloudy, but the temperature was 9°, with no prospect of rain. On the other hand, every physical system involved in running rebelled against me this morning — achy joints, stiff muscles, laboured breathing (I wish I could blame pollen, but that wasn’t the culprit). Still came in at 9:37, but a very grim mile.
The morning went well enough — I poked and prodded at my book outline, read a cursory few pages, but ended up devoting more time to the third section of Legends. The afternoon, though, descended into aimless, futile internet frittering. I think I desire, intensely but , to resume extra-domestic activity of at least a casual, intermittent sort. Pizza. Westworld.

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