A journalist observes life in the far north.
Cooking breakfast is about the only productive thing I’ve done today. I am whiling away my time surfing the Internet, itching my rash and trying to make Alec, who is grumpy and hung over, laugh.
I am glad he rarely drinks to excess because he was a fruitcake last night, especially after his 44th birthday party wound down and everyone left. He got me out of bed and shined a flashlight on Jade, who was sleeping, because he was concerned that she had caught my rash. While on the phone with a friend, he said “I love you” about 20 times.
I loved the crazy energy of having a houseful of people. I can still feel the energy a little bit today as I munch on leftover chips and salsa.