There is something to be said for having a coffee maker right on your writing desk, even if the coffee tastes like something from pre-drug cartel Columbia. Still, after watching cold liquid flowing over things last night, to see some hot liquid flowing in my room is a welcome sight.
While I fancy myself a curmudgeon though, there are points when even someone like myself just didn’t want to have to have a reason to complain anymore. Last night was it. With wet clothes hanging around my room, and after watching several of the kids on the cusp of hypothermia yesterday afternoon after their experiences in the rain, the appearance of snow last night was pretty much the last straw. Nah, I wasn’t interested in watching it. I was cold and wet, heading to a room, that while warming up, was filled with cold and wet clothes I had to dry out. I was done. I skipped the final evening activity simply because I didn’t want to go out in the cold anymore. Nevertheless, I spent the bulk of my evening periodically glancing up at the ceiling to see if any more leaks would spring up. We go home tomorrow. I’d like to have reasonably dry clothing to pack back up.
For whatever reason, I wind up with the oddest rooms at this place. Last year, we stayed in the adjoining ranch house next to these cottages. I struggled to get a full flow of hot water in my sink all week, and on the final day, the shower gave out, forcing me to take a bath using a coffee cup. This year, I wind up with the leaking room, which was frustrating. Then the Camp staff gives me the room next door to my old one, making me worry about the roof for both of the cabings. But, this will have to do. After my teaching partner helps me “steal” the original room’s desk and she leaves for her evening, I glance around a room looking to see what it has to try to size up my situation for these final couple of days: A refrigerator in the closet, but no hangers. A stolen desk. A heater that needs to be turned on immediately. No heater in the bathroom (which the other room had had for some reason) but a better sink. And all the towels from my two rooms, since I now had to mop up the floor after racing back and forth trying to move my stuff without getting it rained and snowed upon.
At 3:30 a.m., I discover the final aspect of my new room. I likely wake up from a normal R.E.M. cycle, and immediately grab my smart phone to check the time. Did I set the alarm? I did. I set it, but I quickly go through the menu to make sure I didn’t inadvertently change the time zone or something. It is quite bright in this room, even with the lights out. I realize where it’s coming from: I am sitting smack by the resort’s restaurant’s parking lot, and the big light is right by my window. Unlike the other room, which had them, even though it faced away from the parking lot, this room does not have the blackout window shades.
I throw my head back on to the pillow. The room is warm. I don’t hear drips coming from the closet. And I am dry.