Sorry Mark Twain, but it's not greatly in my case. So far the last few months, I've had a couple relapses of conditions, accidentally went off my brain meds (amazing what you can "forget" to take, and necessitating a few day stay in the hospital while I put my brain back together again (Protip: 16 hours of sleep is a wee bit too much.)
Then, I got out of the hospital, and prepared to do an intensive outpatient program to build everything up, and it was Corona(virus) time. You see, I take two medicines that surpress the immune system (part of the treatment for Crohn's), so I get sick easier, and when I DO get sick, it's much much worse.
Back when there was no limitations on gathering, I asked my doctor what limitations I had, since I was immuno-compromised. "(Fozzie), the guidance we are getting is that even right now, you should not travel unless necessary and DEFINITELY not attend any gathering of 20 or more people."
Since then, we've all been placed under increasingly harsh (but necessary) steps to protect each other from it. Now, there wasn't many places that I could go that would have less 20 people (maybe a 24-hour CVS at 3 AM. Maybe), but since my restrictions are tighter then what "healthy people" are forced to put up with, I'm going to be house-bound. For the next few MONTHS, most likely.
No grocery visits. No Library visits. No "going out and picking up a bite to eat at the drive thru"
One bit of good humor that survives all of this, is.. I found out where my muse had been hiding. You see, I was at the hospital, and of course, they shut off all the TV's and stuff at 11 PM because you're supposed to sleep.
Of course, with my reverse circadian rythym 11 PM is more like 11 AM, so I had nothing but time on my hands, and nothing to distract me. No internet. No TV, not really any good books either. So, I got pen and paper and decided to re-write the storybook for FTMD, One on One, Rogue's Rules and a third story that's been bouncing around my head for several months now (if you remember, I lost all of that in a massive computer failure) I spend the next eight hours filling up 15 pages of writing. (god my writing hand hurt afterwards).
Now that I'm out and have nothing better to do for the next few months, time to sit down and get back to writing.
But it's nice to see even at age 45, my muse is as crazy as I am.