I shouldn't complain, really. I'm in a monster suite in The Lodge at Whitefish Lake in Montana. Two queen beds, a sitting area with a fireplace and two chairs. A work desk. Kitchenette. Bathroom big enough for an orgy. Not that I've had one it it. Yet.
With just me, and two beds, I should be in heaven. See, I get ALL the pillows to myself. I can create a little pillow cocoon . . . one pillow lover on my right, one pillow lover on my left, on pillow lover on top of me, and then the one under my head. Pull up the sheet and the duvet . . . should be a formula for divine rest.
However, a nagging cold has kept me awake coughing most nights. Well, that, and the fact that the Lodge doesn't actually have the cooling system turned on. Which means somewhere in the middle of the night, my duvet covered pillow orgy has really just turned into a heat torture chamber, and I'm flinging covers and pillows like a crazy woman. Fifteen minutes later, I cool down, and miss my down-filled boys . . . so I gather them around me again until my internal thermostat schedules our next break up.
If this is anything like what hot flashes will be like when I go through menopause, just shoot me now. Well, wait a few days. Family is taking me to a birthday dinner tomorrow, and then party on Saturday at my house. Oh, and there is Thanksgiving coming up. One of my favorite holidays. Oh, and Hannukah. Oh, and Vegas.
Ok, shoot me after the first of the year. At least I'll get to miss busy season.