Oh, the Resourcefulness of Me!
HA. Am so resourceful. I recently realized that I didn't actually know the last name of the woman I'm sharing a room with this week. Whoops. She arrived in FL today, so I'm guessing she's still settling in and hasn't gotten on-line yet to answer my query. Still, it would be helpful information, since the room is reserved under this unknown name.
Never fear, however. I've ferreted it out, using her RL first name from our email and cross-checking it against the conference program. I rock.
I skipped the laundromat tonight and finally ventured down into Scary Dark Basement to use the coin machine there. I winnowed my clothing into one all-important load, and the rest will just have to wait until after break. It's in the dryer now. Theoretically, I could be packing the other things, but I like to start with clothes. It just makes sense. And this way I get to answer email.
There's no light in our backyard, and Noisy Boys have once again parked their big van illegally, and far too close to the railing, blocking any street light. I have to squeeze by every time, muttering to myself and attempting not to slip on the sea of ice. Anyway, earlier this evening I gingerly stepped down the concrete stairwell full of decomposing leaves, dirty snow, and bits of trash. I was unable, however, to see the padlock in the dark, and therefore unable to get in. I came back up to my apt to get a flashlight and then remembered that I don't actually own a flashlight. Neither do the people on the first floor, and Downstairs Boy is not home. Huh.
Resourcefulness kicked in once again as I promptly dug out a candle. Protecting it from the wind (because I have to leave the house entirely and walk all the way to the back to get to the cellar), I managed to keep the little flame alive until I reached the padlock. Once the door opened, however, life was not peachy. It was dark.
Very, very dark. My candle did almost nothing. I was walking into a Very Very Dark basement at night by myself.
After I got halfway into the room, though, the motion-sensor lights flipped on and it transformed into a Normal Basement. The story is less exciting after that.
Never fear, however. I've ferreted it out, using her RL first name from our email and cross-checking it against the conference program. I rock.
I skipped the laundromat tonight and finally ventured down into Scary Dark Basement to use the coin machine there. I winnowed my clothing into one all-important load, and the rest will just have to wait until after break. It's in the dryer now. Theoretically, I could be packing the other things, but I like to start with clothes. It just makes sense. And this way I get to answer email.
There's no light in our backyard, and Noisy Boys have once again parked their big van illegally, and far too close to the railing, blocking any street light. I have to squeeze by every time, muttering to myself and attempting not to slip on the sea of ice. Anyway, earlier this evening I gingerly stepped down the concrete stairwell full of decomposing leaves, dirty snow, and bits of trash. I was unable, however, to see the padlock in the dark, and therefore unable to get in. I came back up to my apt to get a flashlight and then remembered that I don't actually own a flashlight. Neither do the people on the first floor, and Downstairs Boy is not home. Huh.
Resourcefulness kicked in once again as I promptly dug out a candle. Protecting it from the wind (because I have to leave the house entirely and walk all the way to the back to get to the cellar), I managed to keep the little flame alive until I reached the padlock. Once the door opened, however, life was not peachy. It was dark.
Very, very dark. My candle did almost nothing. I was walking into a Very Very Dark basement at night by myself.
After I got halfway into the room, though, the motion-sensor lights flipped on and it transformed into a Normal Basement. The story is less exciting after that.