January 3, 2002
My apartment isn't much warmer than a meat locker right now. It was fine when I left; something's gone wrong with either the furnace, the thermostat or both. It's currently 59 degrees in the heated portion of the house. The unheated bathroom (an addition) is even colder. It's not so bad except my fingers start to get stiff as I type and my toes are cold. (Hence the slippers comment.)
The landlord says the furnace guy is coming in tomorrow. "It'll be fixed by the time you get home from work," he says. I'm sure that thought will keep me warm as I crawl into my winter sleeping bag tonight.
