I Do Not Believe Hotel Lyfe is For Me

Today is Saturday.

I have to remind myself of the day because literally every day bends together here in a way that it has never before-

I had to physically check my phone to see what day it is. 

At least... since I'm eating, like, meals now, I have a pretty good idea of what time it is based on my hunger level. 

Also, y'all, it's still light out at 9 at night, so that has taken some getting used to. 

I like that very much. I would much rather be enjoying the gorgeous evenings from the front porch of The Professor House, though. 

I am not feeling very inspired today, but I also know I need to give my day shape or else I will go batty, so I'm list blogging today!

Aka, this is where I will just gush out a list of words about today's topic. 

The photos in the post may or may not make sense in relation to the words. 

It happens sometimes. 

Without further ado, there are the things I do not like about Hotel Lyfe:

• They change the arrangement of the free creamer every day. I dunno if your brain works like mine or not, but I get into a rhythm with things pretty quickly. So every afternoon when I come outside to write, I make myself a cup of coffee with two french vanilla and two sweetened original creamers. It's my afternoon treat! For the first few days it was great! Everything was in the same location each day and it really pleased my brain. Then, one day everything got all mixed up and the hazlenut was where the sweetened original was supposed to be and I was one pump in before I realized and I was struck with a dilemma... do I drink the coffee the wrong way so that I don't waste things or do I remake it correctly? I drank the wrong coffee. And nothing has been the same since. Nothing is in the same place twice so I don't get the pleasing rhythm I had the first few days. I almost wish I never knew it. 
• Sometimes other people who are not me (or Larry the Utility Sloth) sit on my writing porch. I mean, I know this one is selfish, but, I mean, once I got "hey babed" and then had to explain that the things in my ears were headphones, half a paragraph in before I realized they might be asking what I was listening to before stopped talking and instead just walked to my room, not wanting to engage any further. And the other times, I've just been conditioned to people please for so long I feel like I am rude if I do not engage in their small talk or smile and nods when all I want to do is continue babbling in this blog and listen to Succession Party (a playlist made up of the soundtracks to "Succession" + "Search Party" mashed up for days like today when I can't decide between the two). 
• I have to be quiet during sex. Look, I'm sorry, I know this might be TMI for some readers, but I spent too long being quiet about too many things I shouldn't have been. Sex was one of the first things that fell away for me in that regard and, now? Well, it's hard to shut up. I really hope all the other things I've started to be so open about also stay unlidded. You know, just refusing to stay in the pot, bubbling over the edges and spilling into every single thing I do. That would be so cool. 
• There is no bathtub. Ugh, I miss taking baths so much. 1. They are a good time killer and I have a lot of time to kill. 2. That is where I do the bulk of my reading (and if we're being honest my TikTok-ing). I don't know why this is burned into my brain, but I find myself simply unable to just read. I have to be doing something else and reading, I can never read on its own without feeling bad about it. Like there was something more important I should be doing. Even if it was reading AND watching a show at the same time... that, somehow was fine. The closest I can remember getting is floating and reading so much last summer... and even then I felt like by floating I was doing something. And then I eventually bought these weird pink water resistance ankle thingie that I wore while floating so that I could also "exercise" if I felt like it. Last summer was a lot of fun. 
• The pool here is so weird. It's indoor, but not heated. So it has created this weird environment where the room in which the pool exists feels exactly like the first step outside of the Orlando Airport, waiting for your ride in that thick soupy heat. That's what the pool room feels like! All the time. But the pool? Is not icy cold, but just cool enough so that it takes me ages to ease myself into it. I know it would be easier to just jump in all at once, but it is definitely not deep enough to do that. That's okay, though, I'll be making whirlpools while I read around the pool at the Professor House soon enough. I stroke it lovingly each time we are there. 

That's about it, I think. 

Also, I have only really "cooked" twice and I feel weird about it still because you can smell it all the way in the hallway. Don't get me wrong, it smelled good, but, I dunno, I don't want these strangers knowing what I ate for dinner that night.

I don't know why I care, but for some reason my brain does. 

Also, I don't like doing dishes in the tiny sink and I also hate going to the front desk to ask for dishwasher pods. 

This all sounds so very entitled and I hate it so much. (The way it sounds, not the experience.) 

My brain thrives on routines and patterns and the ones I'm finding during this period of Hotel Lyfe are either too broad to be interesting or too narrow for me to pick up. So, I guess what I'm saying is... my brain feels itchy most of the time. 

I honestly do not know if that makes sense to anyone else. 

Oh, well, at least the weather's gorgeous.