what in the underworld heatwave?

This will be one of those non-introspective posts meant to express mind garbage. Indulge me.

It’s hot and muggy outdoors so the plan was to stay at home for the most part of the weekend. I still haven’t finished James Rollins’ Subterranean, because it was getting gory…as in human-decapitation-by-jagged-toothed-spiky-creatures level. Spoiler alert. I still like it and just needed some mental breaks. I’m avoiding nightmares involving being chased by ancient reptilians in tight underground caves.

So last night, I decided to browse through available romance ebooks from the public library via the Libby app and found one that had an interesting description. I will disappoint you by NOT revealing the title, because it was *insert this post’s title + fanning myself*. maybe I’m embarassed—I know I shouldn’t be, because the author writes well, but the sides of my face are now very warm. The book’s heroine was an autistic econometrician (well, you could Google that and you’d simply find out, eh?). So many relatable aspects about her character, that…that…it’s as if someone picked my brain. I’m not on the spectrum, but share some characteristics. You know what? Fine. I’m embarassed that you, my imaginary/ non-existent, possibly bot readers will look down on me for having enjoyed a steamy piece of prose. I just finished the book. Read it in less than 12 hours. 🤓

So there’s that. I will now publish this post, go to the fridge and pour myself a glass of cold sparkling water.