Not having a national weather service anymore, no one knows how long the heat is going to last. However, this being summer and New Haven not being full of idiots, we're taking a mental leap and assuming it's going to be hot for a good long while. I've decided to take rotating shifts in the infirmary, some days working in the morning, some evenings, some nights. It works out better for me since I'll get to see Jess more often, and at least nights will let me work when the air is coolest. That's one blessing, I guess--night time hasn't been as murderously hot as it has in previous years.
I can happily report that Jess is doing a little better. That took me by surprise, I have to admit, since few of our sick people show signs of incremental improvement. Most of the time they get worse and worse, then either wake up fine or don't wake up at all. Some small number improve slowly, and I can't tell you how happy I am that Jess is one of them.
I wish I felt a little better, myself. I've been keeping myself busy since yesterday, covering breaks for guards and sentries on the wall for a while, helping cook, giving Pat a hand (haha, I made a funny. Because he cut off one of his hands. Get it?) at the forge. Little things to help where I can and occupy my mind now that the house is empty. I won't say that I wish for a zombie attack because that's stupid, but I wouldn't mind having something to completely focus on for a while. Life-or-death struggles are good for that.
I'm just being crotchety and out of sorts, I know. Being home alone is still a new thing for me and I don't have a routine to take comfort in. I raced through all the work Will had for me yesterday in about two hours, which is why I went out to find other things to do. I kept so busy and wore myself out that I came home last night and curled up next to the escape hatch in the floor of our kitchen, burrowed up inside my tatty old comforter.
I really thought about just climbing under the house, which was very cool in the wee hours of the morning. I love being cold, but my stupid brain doesn't let me sleep comfortably without a blanket. There's a plastic-lined space to store food down there, one I could have fit in easily. As it is, sleeping on the floor left me tired and stiff. Probably better that I didn't add the potential stress of waking up in a cold grave underneath a house. I got over nightmares about that years ago. Goddamn obsession with movies about serial killers...
Damn, I'm out of it. Kind of zigzagging all over the place this morning, aren't I? The messenger from Will isn't here yet, so I don't know what my workload for today is going to look like. I'm awake and ready to go, but have nothing to do at the moment.
My neck is really, really sore though. I might go a few houses down and see if Dora is home. She's a nice lady, somewhere in her fifties, and she used to work as a massage therapist. She might be willing to work out some of the knots. I'm never sleeping on the floor again, I swear. I'd rather fight a zombie than deal with this kind of discomfort all day.
Then work. Then a shift in the infirmary. Then, we'll see how much energy I have left.
Man, I didn't sleep enough. So light-headed and out of it...