Weepy, sad, tired. A lot of us are probably feeling like this.
The fever and the PM’s announcement hit pretty much within an hour of each other, and I’ve been trying to keep my s**t together since then.
A night of tossing and turning, aching limbs, pounding headaches.
Maybe it’s the virus talking, but sometimes I can almost imagine the entire, quaking body of Britain groaning and turning in her sleep.
I wonder what she, and I, will wake up to when this fever-dream has ended.