For those* of you who read my recent post about the lack of heat in my favorite writing place, I would like to report** the heat source (whatever it may be) is still kaput, with no end in sight. So I am sitting in Starbucks (cue sound of weeping) with Pentatonix blasting in my ears, attempting to block out the conversation across the table from me. It is filled with words like ‘network’ and others I have already forgotten. Oh, wait… they left. Insert smiley face emoticon here.
*I say that foolishly hoping ‘you’ is plural.
**Figure of speech. I don’t like it at all.