It’s May 26th, Memorial Day in the US, the official opening day at local swimming pools. And the high temperature is going to be 64 degrees F (18 degrees C). It’s 54 right now. I’m freezing.
Right now I’m in the living room sitting at the computer with a blanket on. I’m going to warm my hands on the coffee — thank goodness for the coffee; it might be the only thing keeping me from hyperthermia. The cats are huddled with me for warmth. Their fur is not enough to keep them warm. It’s not enough to keep me warm.
I feel like hibernating. At least until the temps get above 70.
It’s bitterly cold out, with a windchill of -25. Our university has a late start this morning, with nobody coming in till noon today. That’s right in time for my classes, which are all in the afternoon today.
I don’t like days like this. I like my routine, and if my routine gets disrupted, I wish they’d disrupt it all the way and give me a day off. I understand where they’re coming from — losing half a day of instruction is not as bad as losing the whole day, and the temperatures are going up (to a -15 windchill). Just because I function well with a change in my routine doesn’t mean I like it.
Right now, I am in the lobby of the DoubleTree in Chesterfield, MO. I’m writing at a computer table. And I am freezing. Mind you, very seldom in my life am I cold, much less freezing. I am jiggling my foot under the table to keep from turning into an icicle.
This is a business hotel, which means they have a Conference Center, which is a fancy way to say a building with conference rooms. They have a decent cafe for breakfast and lunch and really bad coffee for guests, and they have a broken thermostat in the lobby.
I wish I had a swimsuit. The pool would be warm, right? Warmer than this lobby.
I could go upstairs to my room to write at what is euphemistically called a desk, right? That setup where my face is approximately a foot from the wall? I like a little space myself, which is why I’m out in the lobby at the computer table. It’s a nice computer table.
Eventually it will be lunchtime, and I will go into the slightly warmer cafe to have something that will warm me up.
I suppose if worse comes to worst, I can grab the duvet off the bed, wrap it around me, and sit in the lobby. Nobody would notice, right?
It’s another Sunday morning, and it’s dark and snowy outside. And cold, let’s not forget cold (1° F, feels like -14°). I didn’t want to get out of bed, but the thought of breakfast — French toast and turkey bacon — made me consider sentience.
So now I’m downstairs in a living room bundled up and drinking coffee and learning new tricks in WordPress (see that impressive drop cap?) while listening to the best of the Baroque.
Today I will write. More like edit the problem child of my years of writing, Gaia’s Hands. I have rewritten and revised this story so many times and have not been happy with it. This is another revision, as a fantasy romance, which I have been told it is.
I wonder how many of you have tuned out because I said the word “romance”?
Romance is the most denigrated genre of books, yet there are romance elements in so many genres. And yes, there are familiar tropes in romance — enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, reverse harem (woo!) — but there are in science fiction as well (cryosleep, generation ships, space pirates, and even interspecies romance!) I’ll admit a lot of romance is like eating popcorn — yummy, addictive snack food — but snack food sells because people eat it.
So, it’s Sunday morning and I’m going to edit a romance novel (and add more to it) today. And stay inside, definitely stay inside.
Welcome to the glamorous life of a humanitarian aid worker.
Welcome to Atlantica! It’s 5:29 Atlantica time, and I almost froze themo death. Richard and I snagged a private room in the tactical building only to find out that 1) our sleeping bags stowed on site had disappeared, and 2) Hotel Atlantica (not the more amenable digs above) wasn’t heated. We found a hidden cache of blankets and survived the night.
I hope beyond hope the coffee is drinkable.
***** Not much time or energy for writing here; but I’ll check in now and again.
Words Like Me 