That 4:00 AM fever-dream energy is a very specific vibe. It’s a mix of isolation, exhaustion, and the strange clarity that comes with being the only person awake in a quiet world.
I am convinced that time has stopped. I looked at my phone what felt like an hour ago, and it was 3:58 AM. It is now 4:14 AM. How is that possible? In the daylight hours, time slips away from us. But in the COVID-induced insomnia of the witching hour, time is thick and sticky. It’s like trying to walk through molasses. i wrote this at 4am sick with covid
But you are effectively alone. Your virus has built a wall of contagion around you. You do not want to wake anyone up. You do not want to call a hotline at this hour. You just want someone—anyone—to say, “Yeah. Same.” That 4:00 AM fever-dream energy is a very specific vibe
There is a specific, surreal kind of loneliness that only exists at 4 AM when you are sick with COVID-19. The rest of the world—your neighbors, your family, the delivery drivers, even the deer outside your window—is asleep. But you are awake. You are not just awake; you are aware. Hyper-aware of every breath, every ache in your lumbar spine, and the horrifying taste of DayQuil mixed with last night’s Gatorade. Keep a thin blanket + a thick blanket on the bed
You go to bed early. You took your Tylenol. You drank your electrolyte water. You think, "I am an adult. I will sleep this off." You put on a podcast about medieval history at a low volume, convinced you will be asleep in ten minutes. You are wrong.