I woke up upside down.
From the open window, which I never leave like that, a gust of wind blows, and I was horrified to find a sharp knife thrown at me on the bed.
Here I suspected and struggled to recreate last night's events, but my head exploded in pain, and the phone exploded from messages from people who needed something from me, with a melancholy message: "Life, are you alive?"
Vaguely I threw myself out of bed to get to the truth about what happened to me last night, and on the way I crashed on packs of books and newspapers.
It was only when I reached the door of the room, which turned out to be locked, that a flashback from last night's events hit me.
I'm sick of Corona, locked in my room in isolation, and the other half broke the room lock with a knife, protected by a pack of masks and a plastic bag, because he heard me coughing my soul.
And not for nothing - I did it through the window, because if I have a phlegm attack, the whole street should know it in the middle of the night.
The truth is that until now I have been pondering whether it was a coughing fit or an anxiety attack, given that a few hours earlier a bunch of boys were interfering with me and my corona crystallizing and resting.
I took my head out of the window and threatened to "disperse or call the police," and laughed at me as they fled like sluts.
What seems to have really frightened me is the realization that this moment in my life has come, when I myself became an old woman at the window.
Like any crisis, I always tell myself that it's just a lemon that I'll make lemonade out of.
Thus I found that the best way to eliminate the burning throat symptom I was suffering from was definitely by squeezing - compliments.
In the photo where I am wearing embarrassing smiley pajamas and in a matter-of-fact post I informed the network that I am "positive on full".
The likes, hearts, health wishes I received and the reciprocal shipments of Golda Ice Cream, which I usually send to my verified associates, filled me with fun.
Particularly devastating was the message I received from my ex, who sought to sharpen my statement: "Danny, have you been to Corona?"
No, he's a genius, and I remembered why we broke up.
For five days my daughters passed me under the door of the room paintings and greetings, which made my room an exhibition that would not be ashamed of that of Yaiwi Kosma.
When the little one sat down at the door and cried that she was sad I was locked up, I tried to sell her that I was just like Rapunzel in the tower, and the prince on the way.
With a knife for breaking locks, of course.
It is clear that unlike the majority of the people of Israel, or at least according to the reports of the majority, I actually came out positive in the exit check, and did not finish this sentence in five days.
I was sentenced to two more days in prison, to end a week of solitary confinement.
I also took them overall positively.
I opened a window and screamed in the spare throat I do not have, that I call this corona police if she does not disperse me now from life.
So far the symptoms and I'm disappointed to find out she didn 't actually run away from me as sluggish.
danieller@israelhayom.co.il
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