So...Hot...Must...Cool...Offffffffffff......
Last night I went to a friend's house for a "wine tasting." We tried different wines - all taped up in brown bags - and attempted to determine what they were and guess their costs. I failed miserably at both tasks. Then we continued drinking the wines and ate cheeses and other wine-compatible foods until we were all quite toasty, which was accompanied by progressively sillier conversation until we were all acting like we were 22 again - ahhhhhhh, the degenerative qualities of alcohol. So I got home (Wendy was DD - thank you, Shweetie!!!) and went to bed. The temperature was quite pleasant.
Then, maybe half an hour ago, I realized that something was wrong as I had no covers on and was sweating like a, um, a person who's really hot and sweating a lot. I hate the heater in this apartment. It's a natural gas heater, which everybody agrees heats faster than any other type of residential heater on the planet, but if that's supposed to make me happy, it's doing a lousy job of it. Every time the heater kicks in, the bedroom temperature rises at least 5 degrees, sometimes 10, before the thermostat registers a temperature change. Then the heater shuts off and stays off until the bedroom temperature is well below the set point (ie cold) and proceeds to roast my ass again. I think the apartment is trying to kill me.
Today, if I haven't died of heat stroke, I'll be going hiking.
PS: Last night, my friend's daughter, who's just over 9 months old, snuck up behind Joseph, grabbed him around the head, and smooched him silly. If I had video footage of this, I would be rich. Sadly, I don't even have a picture. It was adorable.
Then, maybe half an hour ago, I realized that something was wrong as I had no covers on and was sweating like a, um, a person who's really hot and sweating a lot. I hate the heater in this apartment. It's a natural gas heater, which everybody agrees heats faster than any other type of residential heater on the planet, but if that's supposed to make me happy, it's doing a lousy job of it. Every time the heater kicks in, the bedroom temperature rises at least 5 degrees, sometimes 10, before the thermostat registers a temperature change. Then the heater shuts off and stays off until the bedroom temperature is well below the set point (ie cold) and proceeds to roast my ass again. I think the apartment is trying to kill me.
Today, if I haven't died of heat stroke, I'll be going hiking.
PS: Last night, my friend's daughter, who's just over 9 months old, snuck up behind Joseph, grabbed him around the head, and smooched him silly. If I had video footage of this, I would be rich. Sadly, I don't even have a picture. It was adorable.