HOW COLD IS IT?
Fuck you, invisible peanut gallery, it's fucking cold is how cold it is. It's recluse cold, as in it's so cold I don't go outside unless I'm scurrying from one warm indoor spot to another. I don't have cheese. I can't leave my apartment to buy cheese.
That's how cold it is. It's no-cheese cold.
I can't believe 8% of the country's population lives in this cold-ass state.
Notes from a Hawaii girl in Brooklyn, Big Island to Long Island. Updates Sundays and Wednesdays. Weekly book reviews over at Big Island Rachel's Books.
Showing posts with label cold. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cold. Show all posts
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Cold... so very cold...
I didn't post yesterday because I thought if I curled up into a tight enough ball on my couch, I would preserve the last precious bit of warmth in my fragile frame.
Tonight I'm just toughing it out. I pulled on my big girl panties, put some water to boil on the stove, and settled in for my second night of broken heating in my apartment.
This building malfunction happens to coincide with the coldest week of the season. It can't be more than 60 degrees in here, even with the space heater on high and the oven cranked up to 400 (Mom). I'd cry but don't want to waste calories that could be burning to keep my shivering carcass one step ahead of pneumonia for another night in the Ice World level of Super Mario Bros.
Everything is cold. My toilet seat; the spoons in my silverwear drawer; my couch, my computer keys. Sure, it keeps the cryogentics division of Big Island Rachel at the optimum temperature, but at what cost? My poor bonsai will be lucky to survive this disaster.
I may have to stay with the BF during all this. He sheltered me in storms, and now, winter is coming.
Update: the heat is back on.
Tonight I'm just toughing it out. I pulled on my big girl panties, put some water to boil on the stove, and settled in for my second night of broken heating in my apartment.
This building malfunction happens to coincide with the coldest week of the season. It can't be more than 60 degrees in here, even with the space heater on high and the oven cranked up to 400 (Mom). I'd cry but don't want to waste calories that could be burning to keep my shivering carcass one step ahead of pneumonia for another night in the Ice World level of Super Mario Bros.
| I'll eat your baby, you smug penguin bastard. |
I may have to stay with the BF during all this. He sheltered me in storms, and now, winter is coming.
![]() |
| Game of Thrones reference! They'll eat ALL the penguin babies! |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
