I finally caved. I had to do it. Last night, I turned on the heat. I feel like a weakling. I'm justifying it to myself by saying there are two geriatric cats here, as well as a dog with the thinnest fur coat of all, and one needy rabbit of a cat who, it is well established, Does Not Like Cold. The huge dip in the jet stream that brought arctic air to the rest of the country got to us too. There was snow in the state, but not in my neighborhood. The wind was sporty, though. I was awake until the wee hours of the morning, as usual, and I spent hours listening to the wind howl and throw sycamore pods and branches all over my deck and roof. Gosh I'm glad I spent an hour yesterday sweeping the leaves up off my porch and front walk, and bagging them up. In reality, I think I'm glad I didn't spend MORE than an hour working on it, because then I might have been upset rather than resigned by what I found this morning.
Tonight is colder than last night outside. The ground floor doesn't feel any warmer than it did yesterday, but upstairs is going to be sweltering, I just know it. I love my house, I really do, but the uneven heating and cooling is a big negative. And now that it is too cold for me to have any interest in stepping outside, it occurs to me that I should have pulled my geraniums inside. I hope they survive the freeze.
After a lunch with some entertaining women, I came back and finished typing up everything I had handwritten for my little ghost story. Now that all my work thus far is digital, and I have a word count, I am depressed. I have probably 20-25% of what I should have had by this date to be on target for NaNoWriMo. Fifty thousand words in thirty days. I haven't pushed myself nearly hard enough to meet this goal. But now that I have all the technology I said I needed at my fingertips, I have the fire lit under my tail to start cranking this out. The heat is on.
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