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The past few days have been weird.

Not regular sick-person weird. Not “I have a fever and need some rest” weird.

The kind of weird that makes you seriously consider supernatural explanations.

It started on a day that was supposed to be nice. I had taken work from home because it was my parents’ anniversary. I was attending a work meeting like normal when, out of nowhere, I developed a 102°F fever.

At first, I tried to continue working.

I hate taking leaves, especially after already taking work from home. So I sat there trying my best to push through it, hoping it would somehow disappear if I ignored it long enough.

It did not.

Eventually, I had to stop and rest.

The next day wasn’t any better. The fever was still around 102°F, so I went to see a doctor.

Now, when I say “doctor,” I should probably explain the experience.

This wasn’t the type of clinic where you get a printed prescription with medication names and instructions.

No.

This man has bottles.

Many bottles.

He simply reaches into the bottles, selects pills with the confidence of someone who absolutely knows what he’s doing, puts them together, and hands them to you.

There are no labels.

There are no names.

There is no prescription.

At no point do you learn what you are taking.

You simply accept your fate and swallow whatever mysterious pharmaceutical cocktail has been assembled for you.

The first dose didn’t seem to do much.

The second dose worked.

A few hours later, my fever came down.

Whether that was modern medicine, ancient wisdom, or outright sorcery, I honestly couldn’t tell you.

The third day felt manageable. I still had some fever, but it wasn’t nearly as bad. Saturday was even better. I genuinely thought I was recovering.

Then Sunday arrived and reminded me that my body apparently enjoys plot twists.

The fever came back.

101°F.

Not as high as before, but enough to make me realize that whatever is happening isn’t quite finished with me yet.

The fever itself is annoying, but honestly, it’s not even the strangest part.

The strangest part is that all my senses feel heightened.

The day this all started, I had washed my hair. Normally I use Dove shampoo, but I had run out. So I borrowed my mother’s black Sunsilk shampoo instead.

The smell drove me insane.

Not because it smelled bad.

Because it smelled too much.

The fragrance felt overwhelming. It gave me a headache almost immediately. I mean, for a haircare brand shouldn’t they know – anything that goes on face or hair should be fragrance free?

Since then, every smell seems to bother me.

Food smells.

Shampoo smells.

Random smells that I wouldn’t normally even notice.

Everything feels louder, stronger and more intense than usual.

Eating has become difficult.

Sleeping has become difficult.

Even sweating seems to have become difficult.

My body feels like it’s forgotten how to do basic human things.

And then there’s my back.

My back hurts.

Not the kind of back pain where you stretch a little and move on with your day.

The kind where you start looking at the floor and thinking, “Maybe that’s where I live now.”

At this point, lying flat on the floor provides more relief than any chair, bed, or sofa in the house.

Every time I lie down, I feel slightly better.

Every time I get up, my body reminds me that it is currently engaged in some mysterious battle that nobody informed me about.

The exhaustion is strange too.

It’s not normal tiredness.

It’s the kind of exhaustion where your body feels busy even when you’re doing absolutely nothing.

Tomorrow I have to go to the office.

Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal.

Right now, however, my body feels like a badly maintained vehicle that is somehow expected to report to work.

I don’t know why my fever keeps disappearing and returning.

I don’t know why every smell suddenly feels offensive.

I don’t know why my back hurts.

I don’t know why I can’t sleep properly.

I don’t know why eating feels like a chore.

But I have developed a theory.

I am turning into a werewolf.

Think about it.

Heightened senses? Check.

Unexplained body aches? Check.

Acting strangely? Check.

Sudden desire to isolate myself and lie on the floor? Check.

Feeling vaguely feral and deeply inconvenienced by humanity? Check.

The evidence is compelling.

The only thing left to do is wait for the next full moon and see what happens.

Realistically, it’s probably just a fever.

But if I suddenly start howling at the moon, growing suspicious amounts of body hair, or chasing squirrels through the neighborhood, I would like this article to be considered official documentation that the signs were there all along.

Until then, I will continue drinking water, taking my mystery pills, lying on the floor, and monitoring my condition.

For science.

And for the werewolf community.