2AM In Florida

It's 2AM in Naples, Florida, where I'm currently visiting my family. We're in a two-room hotel suite that I was absolutely loving until I woke up drenched in sweat about half an hour ago. After a quick midnight pee to resolve the situation (always a good solution), I quickly decided that my ocean of a bed was not where I wanted to be at the moment. So, I took to my laptop out on the kitchen counter and started furiously pressing up, left, down in a nice game of 2048.

Don't click that link, by the way. It links to the game, and it's incredibly addictive. I'm sorry.

Anyway, here I was electing to avoid my sweaty bed for at least a little while by smacking keys and making numbers add up. It took me a little while to register the time, but when I did I didn't really care about the lateness. I was up at 5AM yesterday for my flight out, and I went to bed around 7PM, so my internal clock is as wacked out right now as it can get. I decided that it couldn't hurt to smack buttons a little longer until the bed situation was rectified.

So, yeah. Not the most solid plan. That is, until, my dad was awoken by a combination of me out in the kitchen and his habit of never closing doors. He came out and found his son covered in sweat in the middle of the room, smacking keys on a laptop until the cows would inevitably come home. I explained the hopeless situation: there's no fan in my room, it's hot as hell, Maddie'd die if I open a window or something, I don't know, I'm waiting out here until it's not sweaty anymore.

My dad did something then that I had not even faintly considered previously; he turned the temperature down on the thermostat, making the air conditioning come on. Apparently, it was off prior to this, which explains quite a bit. Anyway, my dad saved my sweaty life with a couple presses of a button and swiftly retired back to his room after I sheepishly thanked him.

I guess I'll be heading back to bed now, but the lesson I'm taking from tonight is this: my dad is awesome. He's always known exactly what to do, no matter what the trouble. Of course, that may be some whitewashed retrospect, but isn't everyone's childhood a wash of white? My dad's been my idol since I was young, and I continue to work to be like him today as I enter adulthood.

You know, it's pretty easy when you're living on your own in an apartment two and a half states away to take for granted the folks that are allowing you to study to follow your career. Of course, I love my mom equally, but, as it happened, she was peacefully sleeping through the whole debacle (not that I blame her; she had some terrible travel scenarios today, and I'm glad she got her rest).

So, this post is a specific thank you to my dad for reminding me that no matter what, no matter how far I go, I'm still your son who was still scared to go to sleep without a nightlight when he was ten, and I'm still your son who can't figure out how to work a thermostat when he's twenty. I'm not sure if you'll read this, dad, but the point still stands: you're awesome, and I'll always look up to you. Thank you for making me who I am, and thank you for saving me from sweating out my body weight.

In closing, I'm totally not about that room-with-no-fan life. Not my thing at all.