I Have No Feeling In My Toes

This morning, the Grand Poohba of the Universe broke out his Uncle Sam impression, pointed at me and said, “YOU!”

YOU! Will be my bitch!

YOU! Will be my bitch!

Ever since, it’s been Shit City around here. The day kicked off around 4 a.m. when I woke up and noticed it was a wee bit chilly in my apartment. Clutching my down comforter, I crossed the arctic tundra that had taken over my living room and checked the thermostat. 42 degrees. As if to confirm my apartment was unexplainably Frozen Monkey Balls Cold, I could see my breath.

Suspecting the HVAC was acting up again; I opened up the utility closet and frowned threateningly. I have a theory about computers, machines, and other stuff that runs on electricity and/or has parts. It goes like this…

If semi-technological things develop an attitude, the best way to fix them is to:

a) kick/hit/shake some non-important section, like a handle or a door;

b) jiggle wires, cables and cords until it turns back on or beeps;

c) cuss at the object; or

d) glare menacingly.

Usually, some combination of the four will fix the situation. But not this time. As I gave the HVAC a few love taps with my foot, it made a sputter-sputter-pop sound. Even with my limited Miss Fix-It knowledge, I recognized that as a Death Groan.

I was at a loss about what to do until I could make this my landlord’s problem. So, I put on a hat, layered up and googled the warning signs of frost bite. After I was sufficiently paranoid about losing toes, I constructed a blanket fortress on my bed. The cats and I huddled for warmth until dawn, when I felt it was reasonable to call Landlord.

The cavalry, in the form of the building’s Engineer On Call and his assistant, arrived at about 7:03. Chez Apartment has two walls of floor-to-ceiling single pane windows, so the cold pours in until it turns into a really big cryogenic chamber. Upon arrival, the ever helpful EOC told me my 900 square feet was down to 38 degrees. I would have cried, but the tears icicled on my eyeballs. There was 20 minutes of intense pounding and cursing in Spanish before the EOC admitted the HVAC was in appliance heaven. My thoughts immediately turned to cold-weather survival methods and how many space heaters I could carry home on the Metro.

By 8:30, Landlord had secured Saturday instillation of a new HVAC system. But that was not good enough.

Me (shivering like Mr. Freeze): Can you come any sooner?

Unsuspecting HAVC Installer: Um, no.

Me (determined to win this one): Look Buddy, I have the worst case of THO on the planet. My cats are huddled under a bathmat because I won’t share the blankets and I googled hypothermia. That’s not how I want to leave this world. Now, what time tomorrow can you get here?

We settled on 4:45 p.m. I’m literally counting down the hours.

What I looked like before I spent 40 minutes hugging the heater in my office.

What I looked like before I spent 40 minutes hugging the heater in my office.

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13 Responses to “I Have No Feeling In My Toes”

  1. PQNation Says:

    That is cold!!! It’s almost 4:45 though!! Bundle up on the hoodies and blankies!

    Oh, I meant 4:45 tomorrow. 26 hours until The Return Of Warmth.

  2. Kevin Says:

    Wow. Seriously? On the coldest days of the year your hvac goes out? Perhaps you could go cuddle with Apollo for warmth until the system is replaced?

    I’d rather turn into a Polar Bear than snuggle with the Damn Dog. It’s the principle.

  3. lyssabits Says:

    Heh, this really seems like exactly the reason we have boyfriends, so we can crash at their places while our heaters are out of commission. Or in my case, the 6 months I was unemployed after college.

    Six months? Your boyfriend must really like you!

  4. Shannon Says:

    Yowzas – need an air mattress to crash on?

    You are a gem, but I have alternate sleeping accommodations set up already.

  5. LiLu Says:

    I’m so sorry love. You know you are always welcome if need be.

    Sleepover! Wait, would you freeze my bra? Hmmmmm….

  6. Laina Says:

    Alternate sleeping arrangements best equal landlord paying for the Hilton with some sweet assed room service, sista. See everything as an opportunity, I always say.

    BTW, come read my latest post, por favor. I’m all fragile and need reassurance. 😛

    Will read tonight. But you are magnificent and loved. How’s that for reassurance?

  7. laura Says:

    This hoity-toity chez apartment should put you up in a freaking hotel. You’re paying too much in rent to not have HEAT for 2 days. Perhaps a letter to the Building Association (the same ones that tormented you about Bionic Cat Escape) is in order.

    A strongly worded letter is in their future. I can’t wait.

  8. ella Says:

    i swear to never ever ever ever ever EVAH complain about waking up to 67 degrees inside. inside florida. yeah, i’ll leave now.

    Do not speak to me. DO NOT! I am so jealous right now.

  9. DCBlogs » DC Blogs Noted Says:

    […] people want to be cool. Other people don’t. Who Invented Roses describes trying to get repair to the HVAC system with no toe-feeling […]

    I love you DC Blogs. I really, really do!

  10. Herb Says:

    A cold house keeps me looking young. So I keep telling myself…

    Cryogenic?

  11. Leon Says:

    I now know that a cold room is NEVER EVER EVER wanted.

    God no, it’s not.

  12. Connie Says:

    Before we moved to Egypt (yea – it’s 72F out right now, so why do people wonder why we keep extending??) we lived in a very poorly insulated house where you could feel the wind blow through the walls – I think the walls were siding, a few 2x4s to hold it up, then drywall, the only insulation was the paint on the wall, extra insulation was two coats – the windows were an even bigger joke. I despised the poor construction worse than the crappy, ancient heater…. and we owned the dump, no landlord to harass :-p

    I will pray the heater fairy has already shown up and blessed you with a wonderful new system!

    Trade you Egypt for Chez Apartment!

  13. Boo Effing Hoo; Or, Katertot, You’re Not Alone. | Livit, Luvit Says:

    […] I can’t quite compare to a tree growing in a toilet or being without heat during the coldest week of the […]

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