Dregs: Musings from the Empty Glass

Bleary-eyed, I’m shuffling off to the kitchen, the belt of my fluffy gray bathrobe dragging behind me. I shudder to think of all the dust it’s collecting, but I lack the energy to tie it. Is this Day 6 of the (not COVID!) respiratory infection that has flattened me? Or day 148? I really can’t say. After coughing all night, I am as punch drunk as the cat we once tried to keep awake, confused and stumbling, into the wee hours…