Rumors of my death were only moderately exaggerated.
(actual photo of me this past week whenever I tried to get out of bed)
(actual photo of every single person I know ordering me to stay in bed)
So... yeah. In hindsight that was probably walking pneumonia, and a sensible person would probably have gone to the hospital or at least urgent care instead of just emailing her doctor to say "lung infection, antibiotics pls?" but living with chronic illness kinda distorts your sense of what's actually an emergency after a while.
(Also I'm exceedingly stubborn.)
Today I actually managed to wash my hair, which felt like a much bigger accomplishment than it probably was, although admittedly I do have a LOT of hair. And now I will try working! Because I have, uh... *checks shipping app* thirty orders to get out tomorrow before the snow gets too heavy to drive to the post office.
(Make that thirty-one, actually, another just came in.)
Thank you all so much for your patience. "Get pneumonia during the biggest sale of the year" was most decidedly NOT on my to-do list, and I'm deeply grateful to everyone who's sternly told me to not worry about shipping until I was better. I'm still pretty wobbly on my feet (and apparently I lost six pounds? FOLLOW THIS ONE EASY TIP TO LOSE WEIGHT WITHOUT EXERCISING wait no actually don't) but antibiotics and grocery delivery services are wonders of the modern world.
TIME TO MAKE MORE EARRINGS WHILE BINGEWATCHING MADAM SECRETARY, YAY.