Well, this has been an interesting week. Seems only fitting it should end in our first look
at snow. Of course, since it’s been so warm, the snow isn’t actually sticking. It has made for some interesting behavior, though. Richmonders are noted for their stupid driving habits at the first hint of the white stuff. First, everyone runs out to the grocery store to prepare for famine in case of food shortages. Then, they invent some variation on driving by their own rules. Take the round-about. For some reason this fairly straightforward road pathway elicits strange behavior as confused drivers make left-handed turns before they
should, thus cutting off cars who have the right of way. When it’s snowing, even lightly, this requires driving faster, not smarter.  It’s been entertaining to watch for the past four hours.
                 
The room with the loudspeaker wall had its weekly dose of flesh slapping against flesh. For the umpteenth time, the fountain was revisited by drunken twenty-something males who decided to test the signs warning to keep out of it. The tubing was slashed and pulled up. I am always amazed that this is immediately followed by their appearance in the lobby drenched and denying any involvement in the incident. 
                 
Much to my disgust someone moved into the building opposite my bedroom window. I spotted the woman on her balcony smoking and looking into my window one night. I waved. I’m sure she was hoping to get lucky vicariously by viewing something of a sexual nature, but then she picked the wrong room to watch. That one would be the room to my right if you hit it on the right night.
                 
Most people are asleep at 1:15 a.m. which is what I was doing when my phone announced that I’d received a text. Fortunately, I keep the volume low at night. At 1:15 it’s usually not good news. I turned on the light to read the message. Some girl “borrowed” her grammie’s phone to call her friends. When I texted back she had the wrong number, she wouldn’t believe me. She kept texting. I finally sent her a final text, “I do not know who you are Katrina, but stop calling me. You have the wrong number, idiot.” That seemed to make a believer out of her.
                 
Last night was an absolute zoo in the hotel due to its being full to capacity. Living here has been an eye-opener because you get to observe human behavior at its worst. When the unexpected happens and the staff is trying to accommodate you, this is not the time to throw your imagined weight around demanding blood from someone. Working at the front desk requires the patience of a saint.

She checked into the room with the loudspeaker wall late one afternoon. After making a phone call I heard her leave the room. A few hours later, she returned and closed the window shades. I know this because they’re on a clanging chain that could wake the dead when you pull on them. I had the TV on at the time, when not a minute later I heard what sounded like moaning. My first impression was of someone sitting on the bed rocking back and forth in anguish. Then the moaning got louder. I lowered the volume on the TV. Was she upset; in trouble? Suddenly, it hit me. She was…you know. Since I normally hear couples talking to each other I assumed she was alone. You could tell she was really enjoying her own company, if that’s what she was doing. She was so vocal I started to laugh. I had to share this with someone so I called Confidante, only his phone was off. When she began screaming F…M… at the top of her lungs I almost applauded. Then it ended. That’s when I realized she wasn’t alone, after all. He must have been so occupied… he was speechless. A few minutes later I heard the shower going, then the door open and close. I wonder if he was making a house call.
                 
I’ve been writing this blog for almost a year now. Just as I was beginning to think no one was reading it and I slacked off, lo and behold I started getting comments. My bad. To all who were kind enough to post a comment saying how much you enjoy it, thank you. It’s always nice to know you’re not just talking to yourself.
                 
There’s something about winter that turns me and a lot of other light seekers into hibernating cave dwellers. I’ve already complained about the outdated ritual of turning the clocks back in fall considering we’re no longer an agrarian culture. I crave light and long hours of daylight. So, it’s not really laziness behind my lack of energy in the disgraceful absence of my postings this past month. When it gets dark by five-ish, I’m in serious trouble. I eat supper, finish what I was working on and I’m done for the night. They’ve gotten used to not seeing me downstairs after 7 p.m., especially since I don’t have anyone to play pool with anymore. But, you know what, I’ve discovered absence really does make the heart grow fonder. When you’re no longer a fixture, people start asking for you. Hmm.
                 
I hate re-inventing the wheel. When I don’t have the proper software to do something and I have to waste my time wracking my brain to find ways to over-come it using what I do have, it’s frustrating. I designed a book jacket for the mystery novel I’m ready to publish. I know how I want it to look. I do not have the time or the desire to learn Photoshop for one cover. Argghhhh. I’ll let y’all know when the book is out, with or without my cover.