There’s a minor twist in the plan to get a COVID test.
I can’t leave the apartment.
I mean, without risking another heart attack or diving out a window. I’m on the third floor and there are no elevators.
Aside from that: good days so far. I’m recovering from my cardiac event after a minor hiccup yesterday (fucking can’t even wash dishes!!!), the roommates are fun, I’m better with money management than they are (but no ones hurting), my PS4 and computers are all setup in a row.
Brain is moving a bit slower, I’m moving a bit slower, but I’m finally... not worried. My anxiety has dropped as low as it’s been for over two years. Housing means stability means I can get work means continued housing and stability.