#SoCS – Cozy is in the Head of the Cold-Holder

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “cozy.’” Use it any way you like. Have fun!

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Cozy.

This should all have been so cozy.

Tucked next to an inland lake in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (that’s a capitalized thing up here, in case you didn’t know), we’d beaten the arrival of Winter Storm Elliott and were ready to snuggle in to watch two feet of snow fall midst 60 mph winds.

Cozy.

We’d actually arrived a day early in order to avoid the weather onslaught.

A good thing, too…

But not for the reason you’re thinking…

Yup. We were hit, and hit hard. The snowstorm, at least of this writing, has been mostly a fizzle. A good bit of snowfall (8-12″ maybe), but nothing by northern Michigan standards and certainly not the 24″ forecasted with gale-force winds.

We all have colds. Bad colds. Or something bad. I had a fever of nearly 102 until this morning. So, maybe not a cold (do you get a fever with a cold?).

Let me tell you something: when you feel like this, nothing is cozy.

On the couch under a fuzzy blankey watching Christmas movies? Nope (Jesus, just take me now).

Cup of coffee by the woodstove? Nope (cough, sniff, cough).

Wrapping the last of the gifts? Nope (“My peripheral vision is flashing. Is that bad?”)

Family game of dominoes? Nope (“How can we NOT BE DONE YET?”)

SiriusXM Southern Gospel Christmas playing through DishTV?

Nope.

Just. Nope.

Two days – I could barely do a thing, Cozy had nothing to do with my surroundings.

And this place pings hard on the Cozy Scale, let me tell you.

This morning, Christmas Eve (Christmas Eve Morning? The Morning Before Christmas?), I woke up feeling great. 6:15, wide awake, clear-headed…

I made my coffee and sat down to write.

Cozy.

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#SoCS comes from the website of Linda G. Hill.

Here are the rules:

1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing (typos can be fixed), and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.

2. Your post can be as long or as short as you want it to be. One sentence – one thousand words. Fact, fiction, poetry – it doesn’t matter. Just let the words carry you along until you’re ready to stop.