Chattering Teeth

Tell me, anyone reading people still laugh in the outside world? I miss the laughter.

Day Three of the upstairs vigil continues. It is, quite literally, warmer outside than it is in the downstairs of our home. Walking from the heated upstairs down our staircase, the chill hits you on the third step. By the time you get to the bottom, you are squealing and racing for whatever it is you ventured down for, the only thought in your mind to return--as fast as possible--to the upstairs warmth.

(Oh, excuse moi. My husband passed by and wants it noted for the record that he does NOT "squeal" and "race." Fine, it's just me).

I think it's in the mid-40's downstairs. My husband rolls his eyes and says I'm exaggerating and that it's more likely in the low to mid-50's. However, this is coming from someone who I could probably use to solar power our home. When we're in bed at night, I don't even have to touch him to receive warmth. I can hold my hand about 3 inches from his back and feel the heat radiating from him (This is what I do at night when he's asleep and I'm bored).

So the fact that Mr. Sun thinks it's mid-50's means it must really be in the low 30's down there.

The part is supposed to be in at noon tomorrow. Or rather, that's what time they said to call and see if it's in. They're toying with me. They know I have no heat and am fully dependent on them so what am I going to do about the wait? Cop an attitude? I think not.

The cats are a little freaked out that we don't leave the upstairs. Too much together time is apparently not a happy thing for our furry friends.

So I leave you now. But think of me, trapped in my attic, as you enjoy the full reign of your house.

Lucky bas---s.