The Virus draws ever closer.
Very Good Friend is here at the moment and she’s only just over her dose. Can she infect us? I don’t know and frankly I don’t care. I’m certainly taking none of those daft precautions they tried to foist on us.
Granddaughter the Elder is now snotting all over the place and has tested positive. She’s just down the road. Maybe I should call down and give her a big hug to make her feel better? There again, apart from the snots she’s not that ill.
Daughter is of course tending to the invalid and I assume that it’s inevitable that she and the other two Grandkids will get it – it’s a very small house, not some massive mansion where they can segregate someone into the West Wing.
Now that Daughter has joined the ranks of the Close Contacts she has to miss a week of work, which is more than unfortunate as she had only just started there. You see, she is un-jabbed and therefore can pass the Virus on. Now if she had been jabbed she could continue to work and still pass the Virus on. That is called Logic. Sooner or later people will have to begin to realise that the rules make no sense whatsoever?
I hope to meet a friend this weekend. He’s had the Virus in the very recent past so maybe I’ll catch it off him? I am reaching the stage where I want to catch the damned bug just to get it over with. I would cast my mask off with gay abandon, only I never wear the damn thing. I could count on the fingers of one hand where I have been forced to wear it. If I did wear it now I’d probably choke on all the festering germs and bugs that doubtless inhabit it, not to mention the dust and tobacco bits that share the bottom of my pocket. To put it mildly, my mask is manky. I’d probably be safer wearing one of the dozens that litter our footpaths.
So all precautions are off.
But then I never took any anyway.