Miss Linda dreamt that she had Coronavirus. In her dream it was shaped like a heart-shaped emoji: 💗, reverberating its sickness outward. But being a virus, it didn’t know the havoc it was wreaking, it was just doing what a virus does, shaped in the form of love.
Miss Linda didn’t understand any of this, so if you’re feeling confused, you’re not alone.
She was woken up, later than she expected, by hungry demanding cats, and the scent of French Toast wafting upstairs.
Birds were singing outside her window as they always did, and the loud obnoxious children next door were screaming bloody murder and playing as usual.
When she picked up her phone to check the time (10:24 AM), the top news stories were of more celebrities and athletes infected with the disease. Overlord L’Orange was blaming everyone around him for the spread of the disease, even though he had known about it two months or more previous to announcing it as a dangerous pandemic and national emergency to the public.
Miss Linda decided to stay in bed a while longer, even if it meant missing out on French Toast.
A few minutes later she decided that was a horrible idea, took a double dose of medical-grade THC/CBD oil tincture (which she fortunately was always stocked up on), and eagerly got out of bed.
She was riding an emotional rollercoaster, but she observed this objectively utilizing her Yogic powers of detachment, and decided that all of this would be better dealt with on a full stomach.
Her cats agreed.
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