1. No, I’m not sharing a suite with boys, or with anyone. Now if only I had keys to the other rooms…
2. Lying down last night, I realized this room is the same size as my sukkah. All metaphors or inferences are now up to you.
3. I brought everything for my coffee bar except a coffee scoop. Standing there, pre-coffee, trying to decide how many pinches of coffee would equal three scoops, my bleary mind fixed on the little half-n-half plastic cups. Yes! They are about the size of a coffee scoop, and even have a little tab to use as a handle. All is well, supplies are secure, no need to call the Coffee Calvary to rescue me.
5. Dai’eynu — it would have been luxury enough to be sleeping in a room that is thoroughly warm, after my drafty house and Fear of PGW Bill life, but here the heat won’t stop, so I got to sleep in a room that was thoroughly warm AND have the window open to let in the crisp January air.
6. Waking up this morning, on a bed for which “cot” is a more accurate name, I remembered that I did, in fact, have plenty of sex in college on just such a “bed.” Was I that much smaller and flexible? Or just hormonal and desperate? Or was it all heterosexual and pretty much limited to the missionary position? College beds are lesbo-phobic, pass the word and start a petition!
Here’s a photo of my command center, where the magic will happen for the next ten days. And of the in-room coffee bar, which will help fuel the magic.
Coffee, shower, breakfast with poets (starts at 8, but in an effort to not be a total geek I won’t be there when the doors open….)