Out (in another manner)

I ran out of heating oil on Monday.

My current employment was something of a demotion, and a pay cut for me two years ago, and during December, the choice was mortgage or $560 for oil. The mortgage won.

I was conservative with habits, including setting back the highest demand on the programmable thermostat to 67, from Jimmy Carter's 68, and taking smaller baths. The tank lasted all the way until this Monday. But it's been chilly-ish in here ever since.

Lolly's furious with me, but I've been doing what I can for her. As for me - space heaters are good, and they certainly enrich my employer, and two big pots of boiled water work fine for a bath. Temps haven't dropped below 54 so far, regardless of the ever-more-creative operas from the dog. She's a good singer, I can't complain at her. And I know she is healthy and sound, so complaints *from* her are a tolerable sideline to the problem.

This hasn't happened to me in five or more years. The last time was right at the time I was getting ready to take a new job, possibly the best I've ever had. I figure, with the good comes the ... interesting.

I'm about to finish a novel and send that off.

I've got things going on.

I want to find out what comes next, now, for me. The scriptwriting's a bit overwrought, maybe, with the Dickensian heating/timing. But it's definitely ... interesting, times-wise, right now. Yes indeed.