There's this trend going around (maybe. does it count as a trend if I have seen two posts like it over the past year?) where you make a blog post as if you're sitting down to coffee with the reader. We could make it more real by having this be a Skype situation, but I'll spare you the trouble of signing in. This is what you'd see on your screen:
Me. Without my face on, as it were, wearing gloves, etc. I don't want to put words in your mouth but you'd probably say something about the bundling overkill. Then I'd sigh and you'd actually see the sigh manifested as a burst of steam and you'd get it.
I am sacrificing 8 hours of study/research time today to stay home and wait for the furnace guy. It's been less than 24 hours since we heard the reassuring rattle of the heat blasting through the vents, but it turns out that heat dissipates rather quickly in the present tundra.
So it's hilarious if you think I'm doing anything besides having a Game of Thrones day with the kettle staying at the ready ALL DAY. Sure, it's highly possible to study from home, but I'm already off track by blogging instead of reviewing the different types of cartilage, so it's probably too late to start now. It's past 10 AM.
What do you want to know about, on this, our virtual coffee date? I'd offer you a snack or something? I don't know how that would work.
I'll tell you a little late that I was a guest writer over at BowlCutsAndChippedTeeth.
And speaking of Rachelle... she and I have a long-running joke about going into survival mode at the drop of a hat, e.g. even at the most benign power outage, jumping to the most apocalyptic conclusion and springing to the most drastic action, involving lots of forging and makeshifts. I'm happy to report that when we noticed the furnace was out last night, Jeremy did that very thing. Within minutes we had pots of boiling water, every candle burning and every blanket gathered and all poorly insulated rooms sealed off from the main living area. We were instantly prepared for a night without heat and (bonus) for someone from Little House on the Prairie to go into labor. So he's cut from the same cloth, it seems.
If this were a real coffee sit-down, we could spend a long time doing hypothetical jokes about survivalism.
I'm suddenly very afraid that I'm being a bad virtual coffee date. The only thing on my mind has to do with the dropping temperature. The last time we had a repairman to the house (the upside/downside of renting) he was like if Gomer Pyle was a very jolly, very talkative conspiracy theorist. A real gem, disguised in coveralls.
Update on my non-furnace-goings-on? It is my last semester of school. The dog loves the snow. I am grateful that we can afford a home where an out-of-service furnace is unusual. I have been thinking about Indiana Jones because I rewatched them all over the course of the past week. I have had NPR on all morning but haven't paid attention to a single story. The dregs of my coffee have gone glacial.
I guess I will end, because I started this without a real plan and now I'm wandering. I'll end in the same vein, then, by sharing a quote that has been brewing in the undercurrent of my mind for the last few years, and I'd like to keep it there. I'm still of the mind that I'm not the resolution sort, but this is kind of one? Maybe? It's such an obnoxious cliche, but for some reason, it's pretty solid, I think. Probably because I am a Master Procrastinator.
And I'm going to try to make it less annoying and more confusing and more practical by hiding the quote on a pictorial recipe for delicious vegetable/chip/pita cracker/everything dip. You're welcome.
I'm going to go see how good the imaginary barista is at chai.
