I suppose it’s technically possible you’ll get another saga of this ilk, if I have to isolate again (having caught COVID or been in contact with a case), but let’s hope not.
I had a small breakdown (why must they happen so frequently?) the night before my release and the morning of, where I was sure I had a sore throat and chest tightness and they’d make me stay isolated so I could get tested or, just to be safe, keep me in there another 10-14 days. I couldn’t do it; I was freaking out real bad, I just couldn’t take anymore isolation. I may or may not have cried a little, left my mom an over-two-minute-long voicemail at 1:00 am, and freaked out to my sister on the phone that morning.
Do you want to know what it was?
Dehydration and a panic attack. I wonder what set off the panic? Hmm, a mystery for the ages.
Anyway. I got up, calmed down, drank water, and finished packing. I submitted my self assessments and waited for my check-in from the nurse.
I got it just before 9:00 am – got cleared and discharged, and started moving!
My morning was a frenzy of activity (I got hugs. Oh, sweet hugs): I moved my stuff, got my stuff from last year out of storage and moved that, promptly threw two weeks’ laundry in the wash, got my mailbox, exchanged my keys, picked up a package, visited the ol’ ATM, started unpacking in earnest.
My unpacking was interrupted by my brunch date with two of my friends. We had amazing breakfast and celebratory mimosas (hello, BC drinking age), explored the city, and then hit trusty Walmart on the way back for some things I needed for my room.
When I got back? MORE UNPACKING! (Punctuated with some visiting with some friends with my newfound freedom).
I got almost everything where it goes last night, and finished up earlier today. The rest of my day today has been parsing through the class info my profs have posted (still have four days to classes to kill), starting to lay out my planner, and doing just a little more worldbuilding to keep myself entertained.
I think probability favors my having to quarantine again sometime, whether that’s crossing the border, catching COVID, or being a contact of a case – but, in the event of the second two, I’ll likely be quarantined with my whole pod of girls, and that will be significantly more bearable. And in the event of border crossing … well, I’d rather see my family for Christmas and have another sucky 2 weeks, you know?
But that’s the future, we live in the now.
The point is: I’m out, I’m safe, I’m happy.
I do love school.