I was lying back down to get more sleep this morning and I realized I haven't been sick in about 6 years. I'm not entirely sure, though. It could be 7 years, or 8, even. I just know I haven't been bedridden as far back as 2020. Specifically I'm referring to any kind of influenza. I suppose COVID was a type of influenza, and while I've never been diagnosed or had a test come up positive, I'm sure I contracted it at least a few times. But the symptoms I experienced were as subtle as déjà vu, so I would tend not to count them. If I did include my self-diagnosis of COVID, sure, then I haven't gone without being sick for a minimum of 6 years. I'm not qualifying it, though. COVID was like getting a day old cough or a throat tickle, only less so. I'm talking about needing-water/sleep-and-Thai-food sick. It worries me that I haven't been under the weather for so long. It's just superstition, granted, but I don't know if I'll be able to handle it next time. I mean, the flu can and does kill people. I get it at least once a year, always have. I think, what if my nose gets so stuffy I can't sleep? I already have mild back pain and tinnitus. Can I achieve REM through all that? Sometimes it feels like it's a miracle that I can fall asleep as is. I guess I could take CBD or THC, but I've been off that bullshit for months now, and I like being slightly more cognizant (I'll take what ever I can get). Maybe I got routinely unwell before the pandemic because I was near constantly around people and doing things. There was plenty more opportunities for me to come down with something, because the chances of catching a bug from another person was way, way higher. But Jesus, I'm not capable of going back to that kind of living, even if I wanted to. Today, I think I'm missing that first 6 months of the shutdowns. They were utterly surreal, but also peaceful. The mandated isolation destroyed the lives that it saved, but it is safer to not be around anyone, if I'm being a valetudinarian.

That's probably all that it is: I'm not hanging out in moldy basements with transients, wading through detritus and poor hygiene and secondhand smoke. Live by the squalor, die by the squalor, etc. I still wonder if, in some holistic sense, I need the dirt and the occasional virus so I can stay fit. I'm leagues away from scientifically understanding my immune system, but it's got me this far with almost nil professional intervention (last January I overdosed on pot and caffeine and when I was 19 I needed stitches), and considering my long, lucky streak, it could just be that I've been missing my annual doses of influenza because I've mostly been inside.