This Fall marks a lot of firsts. The first Fall that I have lived with a boy. Specifically, a boy who thinks having the temperature of the apartment hover around 14 degrees Celsius all winter is comfortable.
It's the first Fall where, when my nose is an icicle and my feet are frozen blocks, I can't just go back to my apartment and crank the heat. What is this thing called compromise and how can I get out of it?
It's the first Fall that I predict I will be sleeping in my wool socks and wool sweater. Last night was the first night of bundling up before bed, and it's only the beginning of September.
I think this will also be the first Fall where I hang out a lot in my car. Just parked in the driveway, with the music blaring. Or maybe I'll grab a coffee and read in there. The extra gas money will totally be worth it because there, in my own little personal bubble, NO ONE WILL FORBID ME TO TURN ON THE FRIGGIN' HEAT.
I know what you're thinking. "Wow, this has got to be the most dramatic women EVER." And maybe you'd be right. But also, maybe you won't be laughing when they find me curled up in the corner, covered in a thin layer of frost, my teeth chattering, mumbling to myself about that trip I took to Cuba where it was hotter than the sun and also my favourite place on earth.
I'll be sending out my petition to free the furnace shortly. I hope I can count on your signature.
Update: After reading this post, the roommate gave me the green light to turn on the heat. The sweet smell of furnace is in the air, and look out world, 'cause I am DRUNK WITH POWER.
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