Any of you trying to shed a few pounds in 2024? I have some tried-and-true advice for you. It really worked for me, and I can almost guarantee good results for you, too.
- Step #1 - contract a strong, wicked, nasty case of Covid-19, despite your best efforts to take care and stay vaccinated.
- Step #2 - collect the prescribed medicines, including Covid fighters, asthma reducers, breathing aids, and symptom relievers. Follow directions as given.
- Step #3 - fight the bug and suffer through very unpleasant side-effects, mostly gastrointestinal, from all of the disease fighting drugs.
- Step #4 - here comes the fatigue, where you try to lift the spoon to eat the soup, but no, that's too much effort, try again later.
- Step #5 - say hello to the brain fog, where you: make I try sentence -es to sense complete make, that.
- Step #6 - breathe a deep sigh of relief (fill up those lungs!) a week or so later when you start to feel like yourself again.
- Step #7 - step on the scales and marvel at the shiny number beaming back at you.
Sure-fire way to lose a pound or two. And, definitely the diet that requires the least battle against will-power. No way you feel like eating.
But, definitely not recommended. Not even to my worst enemy. Actually, I don't think I have a worst enemy. I mean, I've bumped elbows with people a time or two. And, there are a few people who rub me the wrong way within certain situations. But I don't wish ill-will on them. There's not a real adversarial attitude between us. We don't try to foul each other's plans or drive each other into the ground. Not that I'm aware of. So, I guess it's more accurate to say that I wouldn't recommend the weight loss scheme to people who mildly annoy me. Or, of course, anyone that I genuinely like.
The week+ of Covid isolation was a real doozy of a time. And, I was indeed able to answer the burning question that has been floating in the air since the pandemic of 2020. Yes, I STILL have a healthy supply of sweatpants, stretchy leggings, and lounging shirts. My pile of contaminated clothes grew by the day as I tried to shed whatever germs and crud I could. My little nest of recovery was a hoarder’s delight of medical supplies & medicines, drink options, masks, tissues, notebooks, novels, research books, pillows, blankets, laptop and other electronic devices, and every plugin cord that I could possibly need for days on end. It was a cozy little place. My family left me be. Too bad I spent much of the time miserable and cranky.
To add to the surreal atmosphere of my recuperation period, I had a contact/cataract/vision issue going on, so that my left eye and right eye were not working in sync well with each other. Depending on which eye was opened or closed, I found it hard to see up close, far away, or at mid-ranges. All at the same time. I had a whole Salvador Dali surrealistic type view of my surroundings. Quiet a trip, man.
And, I have to mention the very worst part of the entire depressing experience. Taking that dang home Covid-19 test where you swab the inside of your nostril with a Q-tip, and then, horror of horrors, stick the SAME swab into the other nostril to swirl around. Makes my whole body shudder as that swab passes from one cavity to the other. I didn’t actually convulse. But, Retch? Writhe? Gag? Yeah, kinda.
So, recovering from Covid. Not fun, because I had Things to Do, Places to Go, People to See. Literally. Plane tickets were paid for, a trip was looming just around the corner. At home, my family keeping their distance. No one running the risk of coming into contact with me. Avoiding me like the plague that I was. Me trying to remember to wear my mask and stay within my designated isolation areas, no free reign of the house. Fun times, fun times.
Aren't we over all of this yet?
Glad to say that, while Covid-19 gave me a run for its money, it didn't beat me. I prevailed, came out all in one piece, albeit a little bit lighter than before. And just in time for the trip that you can read about here. Stormy, Husky, Brawling Chicago.