Roses are red, oceans are blue, this is me in isolation, how about you?

The test results came in just before 10 p.m. tonight. 
Daughter and I both have COVID-19. 
I'd like to think we're at the tail end of it, but the tail is as bad as the head.

We're basically alright.

I can't speak for Daughter—although she doesn't leave her bed either—but for me, the exhaustion is just ridiculous. 
I honestly cannot do anything without just being wiped out. 
Neither of us can breathe. 
We alternate between sneezing our heads off and having a runny nose, and being so stuffed up we can't breathe. 
The cough is lingering; that seems to be a permanent resident. 
It's nothing major, though—more of an aggravation than a worry.

From what I'm reading, we now have natural immunity for at least six months. 
The articles used a lot of technical language, but apparently natural immunity is better than vaccine immunity.

Of course, not a lot is known about COVID-19 and all its variations, so what long-term effects we may end up with is anyone's guess.

 My understanding is that we're supposed to self-isolate for five days after symptoms start, which means that isolation should be up today. 
But—we're still testing positive. 
We'll still stay in just a bit longer, just to be on the safe side.

Husband went to work at 7 a.m. this morning and got home at 5:30 p.m.

Needless to say, Daughter and I basically laid in bed and watched TV. 
We're just totally wiped out still.

I don't know how other people catch this and are all perky and energetic, 'cause I'm wiped out!

Son #3 came by at some point—I don't know what time exactly because I was deeply asleep. 
He stole some coffee, tried to walk out with my favorite mug (which I quickly switched out), and left. 
I think he was just making sure we were alright. 
In hindsight, and with the confirmation of COVID-19, he should not have come by. 
He had COVID-19 first, though, so maybe it will give him a bit of immunity from us. 
He wanted a hug goodbye. 
I said, “Are you sure?” and he goes, “Mamma, you don't even reach my chin—I think I'm safe.”

I did get a load or two of laundry done. 
I'm a bit pathetic. 
I'll carry a load to the washer, shove it in, get wobbly, so I lay down for a while. 
Then I'll gather more energy up, go back, put soap in, start it up, and go lay back down. 
Luckily, it takes my washer about an hour to do a cycle, which gives me a little more time to get more energy up to switch it over.

Right before Husband got home, my dryer started sounding like a screech owl. 
So after working all day, Husband spent another three hours taking apart a dryer. 
He found a red Solo cup full of change—I'd say about $10 worth of change—a dollar bill, several guitar picks, and enough screws to kill a mule. 
The dryer is running good again.

What tiny bit of energy I managed to sum up is gone again, so I'm heading back to bed.

I know I sound like a drama queen or a fainting Victorian, but the honest truth is: I have zero energy.
 It's just zapped, and this is a mild case of COVID-19—or at least I call it a mild case.