Minneapolis Star Tribune, we have had SIXTY days of below zero temperatures this season. 60. Days. TWO MONTHS. And 23 of them were IN A FREAKING ROW. And I heard on the radio that we've had 64 inches of snow already. Wanna put that into perspective? I'm 59 and a half inches tall.
Yeah, this winter is seriously sucking.
Other places have been cold, too, places where people are more likely to have central air than central heat, so it's sucking for them, too. Because they're freezing their asses off INSIDE their houses. At least I don't have that problem - expensive or not, the inside of my house is warm.
So... what happens when it's that freaking cold for that many days?
I don't leave the house unless absolutely necessary.
So what that means, is that there's a good possibility that Jeremiah Quick might actually end up published on February 28, which was my original target date. Yaaaaaay! So I'm going to be trying to create a cover for it this weekend... or rather, begging and pleading my friend 19 to create a cover for it this weekend. (I'm such a trickster, aren't I?)
This is like... a season of goodbye.
I've been wanting to to write some form or other of Jeremiah Quick for, oh, about twenty-five years now, so to have this "done" - is just... wow. Almost like grieving something you've given birth to. It's very weird.
It's also very weird to write memoir-ialized fiction. (You like that? It's a play on words, because most people say ficitonalized memoir. Hee. But this isn't that, at all. There are real people in Jeremiah Quick, but almost everything about them is fictionalized. See how that works? There I am again, the trickster.
Anyway. How about a story?
This I have to tell... I was accused of being "trouble" and "a brat" at work today. And I laughed, and said, "Takes one to know one," and "ya'll are lucky that I only make trouble for good," and this guy kept teasing me, which was fantastic, and finally I said to him, "Shhhh. They (co-workers) still think I'm normal. You're gonna blow my cover."
And you know what? This guy laughed his ass off for the next ten minutes.
Man, that's a good feeling. Most of the people I work with are in some kind of crisis, so to make them laugh or to make them feel safe, means it's been a successful shift. And sometimes, just exactly that, is enough.
And I do apologize, my darlings, but this is about all I have tonight. My old dog is feeling worse and better and worse again, eating some days, not eating some days, walking well, then collapsing in the snow and needing much help and coaxing to come back into the house... so I'm afraid that there will be one more goodbye in the not so distant future. I'm not ready, but I guess I'm slightly more ready than I was a week ago. So if she's that tired and it's her time, yeah, I'll let her go. But I'm gonna cry. A lot.
Peace out, my darlings. Be safe, stay warm, and have a great weekend.