Early this morning, I made this Facebook post:"Perhaps I should be sleeping at 3am. But this resort hotel bed is too soft, and the dark sky apocalyptic as this tropical blob approaches. For the past hour, it has sounded as if energetic people above us are shoving furniture across the floor, but I think that's how thunder sounds on the 8th floor of a strange resort in the unreal city of Orlando."
And then I got up to check various weather sites, even though I was already fairly sure what those sites would say. I have decided that I'm too sore to try to sleep again. My new wrist bone aches, but so do my older, arthritic feet.
I made a cup of coffee in the 1 cup Kuerig machine, which seems to require a lot of force to operate with my left hand. I miss the peaceful process of my larger machine at home: the pouring of the water, the scooping of the fragrant coffee, the gurgle of the machine, the smell of fresh coffee filling the room.
It was strange, making our way across the state of Florida with a tropical storm approaching. Most of the day was overcast, but occasionally, we'd see sun and blue skies. We're here for a church synod assembly, but the conference center is at the back of the property with no covered way of getting there. So we brought extra shoes, and I'm carrying a plastic bag with me, in case I need to wrap my cast.
I've never watched a tropical storm above ground level before. Our hotel window faces east, and it's been entrancing to watch the sky above the scrub grass and pines, both during the afternoon and overnight. But it's been disconcerting to be in a conference center with 3 large groups and several smaller ones meeting--our state's COVID numbers are on the rise, and meeting in person in a place where can't sread out doesn't seem wise to me.
I plan to do what I did yesterday: drop in and out of Assembly sessions and wear a mask when I'm there.