02_03_22

chiller

This morning I woke up freezing. Spring has decided to run the other way, thank you very much, and since the thermostat in out Slumsville apartment isn't working, and the windows leak because no one ever came to take out the air-conditioning system after summer officially ended six months ago, our apartment is damn cold. We borrowed (and really, they're borrowed, we're going to return them when we leave) about eight of those thin, white hospital blankets from the clean linens supply room, and sleep huddled together for warmth, like Luke Skywalker and his Ton-Ton. (Yes, I have sliced Joe open and have crawled inside to snuggle against his steaming innards.) But it's still fricking cold. This morning, my head was cold. I actually had to cover it up entirely with the blanket and hope to create some sort of steam-heat tent with my breath, because my whole face was freezing off. This is not my beautiful life. Joe even suggested that we just turn on the oven and leave the door open, as a method for heating up the place, but I got kind of worried about that idea, because that sounds like some bizarre method that people use to commit suicide.

But now I'm back in the city for the weekend. Where my heater works. Where my nice warm blanket lives. And life is good again.

Michelle

Tomorrow we're having dinner with my family at Shun Lee Palace to celebrate the whole engagement thing. I've never been to Shun Lee, but my parents seem to like it, and since they're the ones always complaining that there's no good Chinese food outside of Chinatown or Queens, it should be pretty tasty and authentic.