So in a cruel twist on last June's bitter defeat, when we stoically resisted running the a/c for as long as humanly possible before collapsing in a sweaty puddle on the floor with just enough strength left to reach out and hit the "On" switch, I finally caved and turned on the heat (which ironically is produced by our air-conditioning unit) this evening. Sure sure, my nor'eastern friends, chuckle all you want at 30-degree nights and 65-degree days... but when you're living in a poorly-insulated shack with no curtains to keep out the cold at night, no windows big enough to let the sun in during the day, and a chilly concrete floor, you start to look suspiciously like a Yankee, all the time. When I put some sweet potatoes in to bake this evening and found myself completely unwilling to shut the oven door, I decided it was time to spring for some heat.
On another house-related note, our landlord showed up at our doorstep the other day to hand over our "holiday rebate": five twenties in an old jury duty envelope. He may be the awkwardest man on the block, but damn, is he a good landlord. We toyed with the idea of dinner at Uchi but ended up storing our newfound fortune in a drawer, as the first of (er, hopefully) many contributions toward the mythical IRA's that we would open if ever we had more than $46 between us. Lucky for me I live with such an egghead, or it would never have occurred to me to make such a corporate-sounding move... but the infallible logic of his argument ("If you save money now, you'll have it later") eventually wore me down and now I'm sold. Our new year's resolution is to set aside $40 each every week, which will probably last all of three weeks.
Okay, time to go eat said sweet potatoes. Stay warm, y'all!