Oh HELL to the NO

In the wintertime, we keep our thermostat set somewhere between 60 and 63 degrees. Why? Mostly because gas is expensive and the DC gas company enjoys it when an entire city bends over and grabs their ankles simultaneously.

Also because we're rarely here and we all tend to sleep better with the temperature set at this point and constant heat gives us tickly throats. Tickly. Hee.

Thing is, we keep the heat at 60 in the winter, and our gas bill averages $300. I am not kidding. I wish that I was.

I woke up this morning, still sick, feeling like complete hell, and staggered to the kitchen to make some greemint. Greemint is the term that K-10 and I created to describe green tea with mint. It takes less time to say (or type) and we are constantly singing its praises. It's awesome, seriously. Try it. Run up to your local grocery store and make the deal.

While waiting for the kettle to boil, I noticed that the little timer/temperature gauge (among the many things CreePaul left here when he moved back to Jersey) read... 48 degrees. Um, what?

I decide to ignore it and make my tea. Yum. As I'm shuffling down the hallway back to my room, I glance at the thermostat. And I did a classic cartoon double take:

You can't really tell, but the little red thingy on the vertical gauge is set right above 60. Interesting. The "real" temperature looks to be set at, oh, 52 degrees.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

See, I knew that something was wrong. When my alarm went off this morning (yes, I know that it's Saturday. Shut UP), and my leetle hand shot out from my cocoon to MAKE IT STOP ALREADY, my arm almost froze in mid-air. You know, like in Antarctica or wherever, when exposed skin freezes in seconds? That's basically my house.

Right, so my "landlord" shows up this afternoon, determined to fix it her god-damned self, and tells me that I have a bad attitude because I have asked her to FIX SOMETHING IN THE HOUSE THAT I RENT FROM HER. Heaven FORBID. She's had a bad week and doesn't want to deal with this.

OH. I'm SORRY. It's not like it's required by law or anything that you do something about this. Oh. Wait. Also? Shut up.

To be honest, I should have stayed, holed-up, in my room, wrapped around the space heater and avoided the whole situation. But no, I had to throw in my bitchy two cents, and that I just so happened to have also had a bad week, and I snapped at her bitch ass. My fault.

Seriously, she is SUCH. A. BITCH.

Now I have to pee and they're blocking the hallway right before the bathroom. Fantastic. Stupid narrow house with no heat.

update: The heating guy will be here tomorrow morning between 7 and 10. In the morning. I planned on sleeping until noon. GD it all to hell.