I think I'm finally over it. I haven't had a fever in a week, and it's been a few days since I had a bout of fatigue. I still cough a little, first thing in the morning, but that's going away too.
Since March 5, I've only left the house to drop off a cat for dental surgery and pick him up that evening. The only human I've spoken to face-to-face in all this time was the vet receptionist, and we were never closer than ten feet from each other. I call my mom a lot, because I can tell she's relieved when I do; she says she's staying home now after I got pissed at her for running stupid little errands every goddamned morning, and while I don't know if I believe her, I'm just letting the matter drop. I've done my best, and there's nothing else I can do from 1000+ miles away.
My neighborhood has never been this quiet; I'm on an incoming flight path into our nearest major airport, so the sound of planes making their final descent has always been part of the ambient noise--until now. I actually notice the sound of airplanes these days because there are so few of them. Also, the constant "rushing" sound of cars on the two freeways a mile or so from my house is eerily absent.
So I'm just chilling with the cats, getting caught up on housekeeping and other DIY projects, reading books, getting caught up on podcasts, and shitposting. As a hardcore introvert, this is the crisis I was fucking born to live through, I guess.