Hot and Bothered

It's a tad warm in DC these days.  Bob and I got our power back on yesterday morning, but despite the best efforts of my air conditioner, the temperature in my apartment didn't drop below 78 today.  It was 105 outside, not including the adjustment for the heat index.  Given the tangible humidity, I suspect it was high.

I had planned to work, but instead I got so angry at myself for toddling along in minimum wage employment, sans benefits, that I determined to do what I'd been putting off for a year (I checked the file dates) and work on getting Two Motherlands into print.  Have been slogging along on chapter summaries for eight hours now, and I'm only halfway done.  I emailed both Irina and the author of the preface, a laureled Russian poet (who I looked up online and discovered to be very cute!  And three years younger than me ) about the effort, suggesting to Irina that she think about e-publishing the Russian version (Amazon.com has a used print copy selling for $315) and asking the poet if I can get a copy of his CV (since he said such nice things about the book, I'd like to be able to speak knowledgibly about him in my cover letters). 

I also did all the linens laundry at Susan's house, where I'd been staying while the contents of my refrigerator rotted.  Bob had already washed up all the dishes.  Their brand-new clothes washer is making a horrible noise.  I have no idea what's the matter--I didn't overload it.  Not something I necessarily want to email them about while they're relaxing in CA, so it'll have to be Monday, when I pick her up at the airport: "Hello!  Hope you had a great trip!  Thanks so much for letting us crash at your place!  And guess what, there's something terribly off with a major appliance I used!"