Tag: weather

Brown Sugar

Wednesday morning and I have doctors’ appointments this afternoon, woo-hoo! I get to show my doctor the arm, ask about hearing aids, and just do a general wellness check that I do every six months to get my prescriptions renewed. I also have to get my labs done to get my PrEP prescription renewed for another three months. Yay! This all means that I have to leave work early today so I guess I am not working a full week in the office yet again. Yesterday wasn’t bad–I met my quota again, huzzah!–and also had to work on the jacket copy for the book I am currently writing–always a bit of a scare when you haven’t finished the draft yet, but looking at what I already did several months ago I see there have been some serious changes, so am glad I had the chance to review it again. (The jacket copy for A Streetcar Named Murder is different from the contents, including name changes and so forth; this always happens when I have to write the jacket copy before the book is written or finished; I should actually go back through all my books and see how much the copy varies from the finished product–I am sure it would be shocking)

We were supposed to have bad weather last night, and we did–only a lot later than predicted. Our phones went off with a tornado warning just before eleven, so I had to get up and come downstairs to sleep in my chair until the warning expired, when I went back to bed. I wasn’t even aware it was raining when the phones went off, and I never did hear it…I guess I was really sleepy? I am still a bit groggy this morning, so am hopeful that my coffee will do its job this morning and wake me up completely. I don’t think the interruption helped much, to be honest, but I need to check the news to see if anything bad happened while I was sleeping in my chair. I’m not seeing any reports about damage around here on NOLA.com, so I guess we dodged yet another bullet. We never used to have tornadoes here…

Yeah, I can tell I am not completely awake as I keep falling down rabbit holes without thinking and my mind wandering while I am trying to do something, which is a bit annoying. I also keep forgetting I have that event on Saturday; which is not a good thing. It’s on my calendar, though–I just have to remember that I have to get up on Saturday morning. That would be a major faux pas, I am afraid.

I hope to make my quota today as well. Since I have a doctor’s appointment and will be home from work early (which also means I will not have a place to park anywhere near my house), that shouldn’t be a problem. I am enjoying writing this, to be honest and it’s been a hot minute since writing seemed like anything other than an odious chore I had to do everyday and literally had to force myself to do. I’ve been averaging over three thousand words a day since before Christmas, which is quite an impressive output (and doesn’t include the blog; I never include this in my daily word counts) and impressive that I’ve been so regular with it, which is also incredibly cool. I always worry if I am going to be able to continue to do such prodigious word counts, but the last three years haven’t exactly been normal times, either. A global pandemic, political unrest, constant and regular changes to my day job work and schedule, and the volunteering. I still am getting used to not being as busy and constantly on the go as I have been the last three years, and it’s kind of nice and relaxing. My psoriasis is still clearing up and not raging out of control the way it would sometimes, I’m sleeping decently for the most part, and while the apartment is still a crumbling wreck, I am making progress on getting it back to being under control again. The storage attic is the big project I really need to get to work on. Like why I am holding on to our ancient Christmas tree? Because we’ll start using it again once Scooter crosses the rainbow bridge? The decorations and so forth can be saved, but there’s no need to keep that tree anymore. Or the incredibly expensive light sabers from Sharper Image that were a gift and have sat up there since getting them because what do you do with a light saber, let alone two? (Having one did make for taking a very fun picture at one time, but the actual “light” is an actual bulb–a very long, slender bulb–and I can only imagine how expensive they would be to replace, if they even are replaceable.) And I know there are boxes of paperbacks up there I don’t need to be holding onto anymore.

Sigh. It really is endless.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again later.

All I Want for Christmas Is You

Well, yesterday was a bit dramatic.

As I believe I mentioned, we were in a severe weather alert for most of the day, with everyone in the meteorology game saying conditions would seriously deteriorate in the mid-to-late afternoon. We started getting emails from upper management and operations in the mid-morning letting us know they were monitoring the weather as the afternoon drew nearer. (I had not really been aware of the bad storms that had passed by the north of us the day before, either.) The decision was made around three to close the building and send everyone home for their safety. I texted Paul to make sure he left his office (fortunately, he was working at home) and hurried home myself. It started raining by the time I got home, and settled in. Maybe about an hour or so later the warning alert on my phone went off, so I quickly tuned into the local meteorology maven Margaret Orr on WDSU (I love her, it’s going to be such a loss when she finally retires) as the storm was drawing nearer and it looked like it was going to form a tornado on the West Bank, just like that horrible storm back in March that also produced one. The maps they use on television aren’t the greatest, especially when they are pulled back as far, so it looked like my neighborhood was in the direct path for awhile. That was a bit nerve-wracking, especially as they were also giving times of arrival–“this storm will be in the lower Garden District in five minutes”–so we just braced ourselves and waited. But fortunately for us (but not for others) this storm followed almost the exact same path as the one in March–following the river and jumping across at Arabi and the lower 9th ward. But we did have some major rain and wind rattling the house. Fortunately, I had Scooter sleeping in my lap, which is always calming, and then it was past and over.

The Entergy power map seems to indicate the office has power, so operations will resume today, one would assume.

It’a also colder today–right now it’s in the fifties–which could account for me not wanting to get up this morning; it’s always so comfortable and comforting when you’re under a pile of blankets when it’s chilly. I feel like I slept through the night for the most part. I think I woke up once? But I feel more rested this morning than I have all week, which is a good thing. This is my last day in the office this week, with tomorrow being a work-at-home day. I made it through another week, but man, time is flying. I spent most of the evening reading parts of When Women Ruled the World on my Kindle or randomly opening The Prime Time Closet to read bits and pieces. When Women Ruled the World is about the sixteenth century; a period I’ve mentioned before because more women held power that century than any century before or since, and I’ve always wanted to write about those women in a book called The Monstrous Regiment of Women, taking its title from John Knox’ horrifically misogynistic text; but whereas I would want to merely overview the women who have been written about extensively already (Elizabeth I, Mary Queen of Scots, etc.) while paying more attention to the ones not as famous (infamous?) in today’s popular culture, like Margaret of Austria, Mary of Hungary, Marie de Guise, Catherine de Medici, Queen Margot, etc. (It was also the same century that produced Elizabeth Bathory…) I should have read more of Algren’s A Walk on the Wild Side, but after the adrenaline rush and emotional distress about being in the potential path of a tornado, my mind was too fried to focus on fiction. I did work on the book some, but my mind was just not in the right place for that sort of work. Hopefully, tonight and tomorrow progress will be made and I can get this under control.

And of course, Christmas is next weekend. Next weekend? Yikes!

Something awful happened to me yesterday on social media that I am still processing, so I am not really quite ready to talk about it here. It ties into a blog entry I’ve been toying with for quite some time now; but it’s not really something I can write when I am waking up and swilling coffee; it’s too personal and too complex to trust to a tired brain that isn’t as awake as it should be to tackle such a subject. I mean, it’s bad enough when you see people you know being openly homophobic or transphobic on social media, it’s even worse when it’s directed specifically at you. By someone you’ve known for years, and maybe didn’t quite consider a friend, but was definitely an acquaintance with whom you were friendly. Well, that ship has sailed–and it’s really interesting to me to see how many people who claim to be allies draw the line when it comes to my transgender siblings. But make no mistake about it: you come for the T you’re coming for me as well. When the right wing comes for the trans community and/or drag queens (which are often not the same thing), make no mistake about it, they are coming for all of us. Just as they used to vilify gay men and lesbians until most decent human beings saw how repugnant it was, they think drag queens and transpeople are an easier way to get to legalize the discrimination against all of us that they want. The language they are using is the same as the ones Anita Bryant used in the 1970’s, and the bigots who have come along in her wake have picked up the banner and use the same coded language she did. “Protect the children!” has always been their battlecry, but who are they to decide how parents should raise their children? What children should be exposed to? Your complaints about “the children” stop at your own. You do not have the right to tell other parents how to raise their children or what they can or cannot be exposed to; and the entire concept of “exposing young children to drag queens is sexualizing them!” is complete fucking bullshit on its face–and you fucking straight people have nerve saying that to queer people while keeping your fucking mouths about toddler beauty pageants. Where are the fucking Proud Boys with their AK-47’s at those events, where they paints the faces of children and dress them provocatively to the point most of them look like incredibly cheap streetwalkers? And don’t you fucking dare ever tell me that Drag Queen Story Hours are inappropriate for children because basically you are fucking saying no queer people should be around children.

Go straight to fucking hell, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

And don’t you ever dare speak to me again.

And on that note, tis back to the spice mines.

Thieves Like Us

Day three of severe thunderstorm watches yet again–there was a tornado watch on the lake shore yesterday afternoon–and outside my window this morning is that eerie grayness, everything is wet, and while it isn’t raining at the moment, it only recently stopped. Oh my God, how well did I sleep last night? I took one of Paul’s sleeping pllls, and oh my God, what a difference that chemical compound made. I, alas, cannot get both my Xanax (alprazolam) prescribed by my doctor along with any kind of sleeping pill (I think Paul’s are lorazepam); and it’s probably best for the world that I continue to take Xanax to even my moods out and lessen my anxiety. But wow, after last night’s sleep–the best I’ve had in I don’t know how long–the temptation is there, seriously, to switch. I also feel level and calm this morning…so maybe, maybe, I should switch. I don’t know, but I’ll definitely talk to my doctor about it the next time I see him.

We finished watching Jupiter’s Legacy last night, which started getting much better as it headed towards the season finale. I still question the storytelling though; while I appreciate the back story of how they are got their original powers back in the 1920’s, it didn’t really tell us anything applicable about the present day characters; it was just here, you need the back story and we need the filler to get ten episodes out of this. But it was enjoyable enough, just not nearly as well done as Watchmen or The Boys–but seriously, there are so many tropes when it comes to superheroes and there are only so many names and so many powers, that in writing these you are always, inevitably, being derivative in some ways.

We then watched the first episode of the Kate Winslet HBO series Mare of Easttown, which has a great cast–you can never go wrong with Winslet or Jean Smart, who plays her mother–but the show is incredibly bleak. But really, whenever I watch something like this and it makes me squirm a bit uncomfortably, it also makes me reevaluate my own work and my own prejudices. I didn’t grow up poor the way my parents did; but we were very definitely working class when I was young–watching every penny, my mother always keeping an eagle eye out for sales to stretch her budget even further while trying to not do without anything, buying less expensive off-brands rather than the ones we’d see commercials for on television–and as an adult, I don’t think I’ve ever been financially stable–or if I ever was, it was a condition that didn’t last for long. Maybe that’s why I’ve avoided writing about characters in dire financial straits; my two private eyes both are incredibly financially stable (Chanse has a gig as a security consultant for a major oil company; Scotty has a massive trust fund), which is also not very realistic (not that private eye novels are ever realistic; private eyes rarely, if ever, are involved in murder investigations where it’s their job to find the killer–if they are ever involved in such a case, they are usually working for an attorney representing someone accused, and they are employed to help find reasonable doubt for the jury–and now that I think about it, that very perspective would be a great approach for a Chanse short story or novella–I am still resisting writing another novel for him). I know I despise and hate monetary stress; which is one of the reasons I am loath to write about characters in dire financial straits.

Then again, it’s not like I am writing anything at the moment, despite my best intentions. I do want to get the outline for Chlorine started this week, and I’d like to get a short story worked on–whether it’s finishing writing one that was already started, or revising one that is already in a completed draft–and I also need to get my computer files whipped back into some sort of shape. (I have a tendency to just toss things into the files and not sort anything…which makes finding things a bit challenging.)

And on that note, tis time for the spice mines. May your Wednesday be lovely and bright, Constant Reader–and we are very close to the weekend!

Getaway Car

Saturday was a beautiful day.

I spent far too much time fighting with my dying desktop computer yesterday; in point of fact, I’ve been wasting far too much time lately fighting with the damned thing trying to get it to be functional at the very low level I require.

Since the time lost really cannot be spared any more, I needed to solve this problem rather than just keep bitching about it or else I would be so far behind I could never get caught up. So, I decided I am finally going to have to remove it from my desk and figure out a way to make the MacBook Air my working computer; it’ll also give me a place to put some books (as I will need to raise it to eye level)–some of those coffee table books will do a lovely job, actually–and I already have a keyboard and mouse for it. All I will need else is one of those USB converter things so the back-up hard drive can be hooked up to it (and the printer) and that will have to do until such time as I can afford to buy a new desktop. I know laptops are designed to be used as a main computer, but they just don’t work for me the way they used to. Part of it is the worsening of my aging eyes. The keyboard, the screen…yeah, not big enough, the screen is too small, and the inevitable resting of my wrists on the edge of the laptop simply will not due–it will take some getting used to, but better to start getting used to it now rather than putting it off and wasting more time. So, I need to get batteries for the wireless keyboard, I’ll start picking out the books to stack beneath it, and look for the spare cash for the adapters and so forth I need.

But now that I have made the decision to finally throw away the desktop–or see if I can trade it in, or something–it will be lovely to have that frustration behind me. I am actually writing on the laptop right now, in my easy chair, with it resting on my lap desk and I have the mouse with me as well and this isn’t bothering me near as much as I thought it might.

Maybe switching to a laptop permanently isn’t so out of the question as I had originally thought.

Hmmmm.

And you know what? Just making that decision yesterday loosened a knot of tension between my shoulders blades and my back muscles just unclenched. Clearly, the computer issues have been contributing to stress levels subconsciously; I need to remind myself this regularly from now on–that you can always figure out a way to work around the problem and thus possibly solve it. Look for the work around, rather than just focusing on the head-on approach–I hadn’t realized how stressed this issue was making me.

The weather was gorgeous yesterday as I ran my errands; it’s the fall season that always reminds me how wonderful living in New Orleans is. Our winters–all my bitching aside about how nasty damp cold can be–aren’t that bad, really; they get about as cold as is bearable for me, and the fall and the spring seasons are so amazingly beautiful that our four months or so of brutal summer are worth putting up with in exchange for our glorious falls and springs. I love that it gets chilly (for here) at night; it makes sleeping even easier, and actually using the stove (without setting it on fire) doesn’t turn the kitchen into an unbearable sweatbox. I can start making chilis and soups again; and grilled cheese is even lovelier in the cooler seasons than it is in the summer. Much as I dislike coming home from work in the dark (it’s really the only drawback), I really love this time of year.

Oooh. I should make lasagna.

That actually sounds pretty lovely.

LSU also won last night (GEAUX TIGERS!) and while yes, their 41-7 win over Vanderbilt wasn’t terribly impressive, the defense looked amazing in the second half and Miles Brennan is definitely getting his feet beneath him and is turning into a quite good quarterback. As embarrassing as the loss to Mississippi State was last week (made worse by their home loss to Arkansas yesterday, snapping a 20 game conference losing streak for the Razorbacks), at least the team seemed to gel last night. Who knows how good Auburn is now, but the real danger zones on the schedule now seem to be Florida and (surprise) Alabama, both of whom looked really impressive yesterday and so far this season.

I now have the Air set up as my desktop computer, with the wireless keyboard and Magic Mouse connected to it. I have it sitting atop my The Annotated Sherlock Holmes by Baring-Gould; it may need to go a little higher, but the system is really working well this morning thus far. (Still not a huge fan of the tiny screen, but I can get used to it, methinks.) Just to see how hard it would be, I also started writing a short story from scratch on here yesterday afternoon–a story called “The Last To See Him Alive”, which had no plan, no idea, no nothing behind it rather than the start–which finds police detective Blaine Tujague arriving at a potential witness’s home and finding said potential witness a little the worse for wear; I managed 873 words of a story of which I neither know what the case is, why Blaine is there, and how this is going to end (this happens a lot to me, which is why I have so many damned unfinished short story fragments floating around in my storage), but I showed that if need be, I can write on the laptop keyboard itself, and having the wireless one, along with the wireless mouse, makes it that much easier.

And on that note, it’s time to head into the spice mines.

Hit and Miss

Yesterday was…challenging.

Let’s just say my computer problems continue, and also continue to be an incredible time suck–one that I really can’t afford to experience right now. But it is what it is, and I managed to turn yesterday into something that I can look back at from this morning with a cup of coffee in hand without regret. I am very pleased that I didn’t allow the frustrations to ruin the day, nor keep me from accomplishing things.

It’s easy to feel zen about yesterday after a decent night’s sleep and over a good cup of coffee. I do, however, have to confess that I was feeling somewhat homicidal around three yesterday, and I placed many curses on Apple, its programmers, and the company stockholders.

And for the record, I am not lifting those curses. I am not that zen yet.

But I did get things done that needed doing. Just not what I had planned.

We watched more of Little Fires Everywhere, and we continue to enjoy it, although I have come to tire of the “backstory episode,” where we find out the main characters’ back stories. It always feels like a filler episode–and yes, I suppose it was necessary, but I can’t help but feel it wasn’t necessarily needed, and perhaps some flashbacks, sprinkled throughout the previous two episodes, could have broken it up a bit and not lessened any of the impact of the story. These episodes feel kind of like the dreaded info dump, something writers try to avoid at all costs. These things are very difficult to do well in prose, and only the best writers can pull it off–and when they manage, it’s spectacular, which is why people always try. But an hour episode is a lot, particularly when it’s not moving the story forward. It’s a fun show, though, and I am greatly enjoying the acting–it’s also nice to see another show where the focus is entirely on the women, with the men serving primarily as backdrops.

As I’ve said before, the classic old “women’s picture” now finds its audience through television.

It’s cool again this morning, not even seventy degrees outside, with a high forecast of eighty. Usually by mid-May there’s not such a huge range of temperature between night and day; maybe a five or six degree differential. It’s very unseasonal, and very weird, to me. Then again we didn’t get a polar vortex and snow in May, either–perhaps the edges of the vortex, dropping the night time temperature. It also makes it hard to dress for the day; I’m going to have to carry a light jacket with me to get me through the morning but by the afternoon I won’t need it anymore. At least, I suppose, it’s better than having to shovel snow and chip ice off my car windows.

But I feel much better this morning, and today is going to be a very good day, methinks; it really is amazing what a difference a deep, good night’s sleep can make on one’s mood and outlook. With enough rest, I always feel like I can take over the world.

We’ll see how long that feeling lasts, won’t we? Until tomorrow, Constant Reader!

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Daddy’s Home

Hello, Thursday morning, how are you?

Another lovely night’ sleep last night, and it’s quite marvelous to feel so rested and be energetic as I have been this entire week (which undoubtedly means I’ve now jinxed it and will not sleep well tonight). Have I gotten as much finished as I wanted to this week? Of course not. I was very tired when I got home from work last night, which means I wrote maybe 100 words on Chapter Nineteen; but it’s a hundred more words than I had yesterday morning, so I am calling that not only a win but a major win; I always count anything on a day when I was tired and didn’t want to do anything a major victory.

Yesterday was a very strange day for New Orleans in July; it was actually cool-and it was about twenty-thirty degrees cooler here than it was in places like, you know, PARIS. Anytime we have a relatively lovely day in New Orleans in the summertime is highly unusual; but it also kinds of messes with the city’s mentality and energy levels in many odd and different ways. I didn’t work very much on the large project that landed in my lap recently, but I think today I’ll be able to get some work done on it. Today is the first of my two short days this week, which is lovely; I can make groceries on my way home from the office tonight, finish the laundry and the dishes, and maybe even (gasp!) make dinner tonight. Depending on what time Paul gets home–he’s buried under with grants, as always, in July, which means getting home rather late every night (last night he got home after nine). This should give me some time to get some work done around the house as well as some work done on Bury Me in Shadows.

That’s the plan, at any rate. I also have an essay to write, some short stories to get going on, and of course, the Lost Apartment is a disaster area. Keeping the apartment neat and tidy is really a full time job, it seems, and of course on my two long days I simply don’t have the energy to do anything about it–or if I do, I won’t have the energy to write. This creates a war within myself; I cannot stand having a messy home and it both bothers and distracts me from writing, but if I do something about it I won’t have the time or the energy to get the writing done. The endless struggle…

But we shall see how today turns out. I may even go make the major grocery run tomorrow after I get off work; tomorrow is an early day and I get off work around run, which is plenty of time for me to run uptown and get the mail, while circling back around to make the grocery run before heading home to both clean and write. That’s really the question, isn’t it, how do I–or any other writer–find enough time to write the things we need to get written?  It really always comes down to finding the energy, really–one of the things I was thinking about the other day when I was talking about the need for self-absorption as a writer has everything to do with not wasting energy you need for your writing on people who ultimately won’t pay off in the long run.

Also, the Macavity Award nominations came out today:

The Macavity Awards are nominated by members of Mystery Readers International, subscribers to Mystery Readers Journal and friends of MRI. The winners will be announced at opening ceremonies at Bouchercon, the World Mystery Convention, in Dallas, TX, October 31, 2019. Congratulations to all.

If you’re a member of MRI, a subscriber to MRJ, or a friend of MRI, you will receive a ballot by August 15, so get reading.

Best Novel 

November Road by Lou Berney (William Morrow)

If I Die Tonight by Alison Gaylin (William Morrow)

The Lost Man by Jane Harper (Flat Iron Books)

Jar of Hearts by Jennifer Hillier (Minotaur Books)

Hiroshima Boy by Naomi Hirahara (Prospect Park Books)

Under My Skin by Lisa Unger (Harlequin – Park Row Books)

Best First Novel 

My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite (Doubleday)

Dodging and Burning by John Copenhaver (Pegasus Books)

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens (G.P. Putnam’s Sons)

Something in the Water by Catherine Steadman (Ballantine)

The Chalk Man by C.J. Tudor (Crown)

Best Nonfiction 

The Metaphysical Mysteries of G.K. Chesterton: A Critical Study of the Father Brown Stories and Other Detective Fiction by Laird R. Blackwell (McFarland)

Conan Doyle for the Defense: The True Story of a Sensational British Murder, a Quest for Justice, and the World’s Most Famous Detective Writer by Margalit Fox (Random House)

Classic American Crime Fiction of the 1920s by Leslie S. Klinger (Pegasus Books)

I’ll Be Gone in the Dark: One Woman’s Obsessive Search for the Golden State Killer by Michelle McNamara (HarperCollins)

Agatha Christie: A Mysterious Life by Laura Thompson (Pegasus Books)

The Real Lolita: The Kidnapping of Sally Horner and the Novel That Scandalized the World by Sarah Weinman (HarperCollins)

Best Short Story 

 “Race to Judgment” by Craig Faustus Buck (Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Nov/Dec 2018)

“All God’s Sparrows” by Leslie Budewitz (Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, May/Jun 2018)

“Bug Appétit” by Barb Goffman (Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Nov/Dec 2018)

“Three-Star Sushi” by Barry Lancet (Down & Out: The Magazine, Vol.1, No. 3)

“The Cambodian Curse” by Gigi Pandian (The Cambodian Curse and Other Stories)

 “English 398: Fiction Workshop” by Art Taylor (Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Jul/Aug 2018)

Sue Feder Memorial Award for Best Historical Mystery 

A Lady’s Guide to Etiquette and Murder by Dianne Freeman (Kensington)

City of Ink by Elsa Hart (Minotaur)

Island of the Mad by Laurie R. King (Bantam)

The Widows of Malabar Hill by Sujata Massey (Soho Crime)

A Dying Note by Ann Parker (Poisoned Pen)

A Forgotten Place by Charles Todd (William Morrow)

Lots of friends on that list! Congrats all!

And now back to the spice mines.

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I Can’t Tell You Why

Wednesday morning, and it’s also pay day–on which I pay the bills and watch all the money I worked so hard for vanish in the blink of an eye. I cannot believe in two days the first parades will roll down St. Charles Avenue…which means when I get off work on Friday I need to run all my errands, because making groceries will be an impossibility over the course of the weekend–at least until Sunday night. But then…I only have to work two days next week, and then I am on vacation until Ash Wednesday.

Woo-hoo! Vacation!

I only got halfway through yesterday’s chapter; I was tired last night after a second long day at the office–I didn’t even watch another episode of Versailles, and was also too tired to read. My short days are coming up, though, and I should be able to get caught up on my reading and my revising over the course of the rest of the week…bearing in mind there are parades this weekend. Oshun and Cleopatra are Friday night, and there are five on Saturday–Ponchartrain, Choctaw, Freret, Sparta and Pygmalion. Sunday there are four: Femme Fatale, Carrollton, King Arthur, and Alla.

There will be beads.

But the true madness begins next week.

I seem to be having some trouble this morning getting motivated; I am feeling lazy this morning. Perhaps it is a lack of caffeine, perhaps it’s just a holdover from the last two length work days, I don’t know. The weather took a strange turn yesterday. It was chilly and wet in the morning before raining all afternoon. Usually, this means another drop in temperature at this time of year…yet the fog rolled in and when I left the office last night it was extremely humid and warm. My car windows were all fogged up, as were my windows here at the Lost Apartment…and the sweater I’d worn because it was chilly was too heavy and hot. I have no idea what I should wear to work today…maybe a sweater over a T-shirt, so I can remove the sweater if it gets too warm. My windows are covered in condensation, which means it’s much warmer outside than in.

So, I just looked at the weather. It’s 72 degrees right now and the low is 63. Yeah, probably no sweater today after all.

All right, I am going to try to finish revising that chapter before work. Back to the spice mines!

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