Aside from no hot water, there is also a chill in the air. I've got the downstairs heat set on 73 but haven't been able to get the temperature past 69 degrees this morning. This old house just has too many drafts. You basically have to bundle up to walk past the cracks under the front and back doors, and the kitten was frozen to the couch this morning from the drafts seeping in from the window. I made the mistake of stepping on our hardwood floors without socks and had to use an ice-pick to free myself.
The only thing I can think to do is to drink large and piping hot quantities of coffee. I'm on it.
I'm still feeling stymied by that "so much to do I don't know where to start" feeling. I believe I'll devote the day to finishing up the application for my artists grant. I've written the narrative, and now must pull together the budget numbers.
Budget numbers. See, that's what's driving me into the closet. Numbers. Math. I break out in a flop sweat if someone even mentions the word "algebra." I should not be left unsupervised to do this.
But it's that or take an ice-shower, so project numbers it is. I love when life presents one with choices.