Got chills (and they’re multiplying), feel like you got hit by a truck, have a man cold, are reminiscing about all the times you took breathing for granted, checked your symptoms on Google and now you’re dying, your stomach is mad at you, woke up from a nap and don’t know what planet you’re on, your best friend now is the “barf bucket” (AKA the house cleaning bucket), are mentally tracking down who got you sick and plotting revenge, your nose has turned into Niagara Falls, shooting NyQuil straight from the bottle, palms are sweaty-knees weak-arms are heavy, realizing that it’s no coincidence that the word flu starts with an “f” and ends with a “u”, are living in a blanket fortress, swallow twice as often to see if your throat still hurts, are popping cough drops like candy, announcing to everyone who sees you that “it’s not Covid,” have watched Netflix for 12 hours straight, are rocking the Vick’s VapoRub mustache, feels like your brain is playing ping-pong, switched the thermometer between each ear twice to ensure you do indeed have a fever, went to sleep freezing and woke up sweating like a whore in church, you could pick your toilet bowl out of a line-up, and on top of it all now your back hurts because you’ve been laying down for the past 3 days.