Baby, it's cold inside

The condo radiators only heat one floor at a time.  We've tried everything we could think of, had Karen's dad and brother look at the radiators and the boiler-thing.  (Clearly, my vast expertise in HVAC has helped immensely.)  Sunday morning, we thought it seemed a little cold in the condo, so we switched the radiators to work upstairs, figuring that maybe it was just SO cold outside that the heat in the basement wasn't able to heat the whole place.  By bedtime, however, she pointed out that she was freezing, and even though I'm usually always hot, I was cold too.

Cast your mind to the next morning.  It was incredibly hard to get out from under the covers, but somehow I decided that was lack of motivation due to shorter days...  it's dark outside...  short workweek from the holidays....  Then I got out of bed and realized that I was walking around in a refrigerator.  Not 'it's a little chilly, I need a sweater' inside temps, no sir.  Try 'going to the grocery store and standing in front of the refrigerated section in shorts' temps.  Don't even get me started on showering when it's 55* inside.  It is not pleasant.  

By last night, we wrapped presents in coats as if nothing was wrong.  I added a scarf and a blanket as I sat on the couch.  I put my hood up.  Before long, I'm unable to warm my toes, and I start to wonder if people who get frostbite in the winter maybe aren't sitting outside without shoes.  Maybe they're inside, where it's refrigerated... with socks and sweatshirts and blankets and hoods!

Don't worry, though.  By this morning, the temperature inside had gone up to a balmy 59*.

To anyone who used to listen to me complain that the apartment was too warm all winter -- that I had to open doors and windows so I wouldn't roast -- formal apologies are in the mail.

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