1. Having hot water isn't always a blessing.
2. When the cold water pipes are frozen the toilet won't flush.
3. Don't warm your pajamas on the stove cover.
I've mentioned the Abbey doesn't have heat. The student wing will be fine. We think. The property managers have placed electric heaters in each room until the pipes thaw and the regular heat can flow through. Can the old Abbey wiring handle 17 electric heaters going all at once on one wing? We shall find out, shan't we?
I do have hot water. That is a blessing. However, I have zero cold water. It's not easy to shower in scalding hot water. I suppose I could do the ole: run washcloth through hot water, let cool a bit, wipe body down, trick? I suppose I shouldn't complain. I should have realized, though, hot water doesn't connect to the toilet. So after I flushed once, I can't flush again. The cold water pipes are frozen connecting to my room. Don't worry - nothing bad was left in the commode.
I moved my stuff in today. There are four space heaters and an oven warming my room. The ceilings are at least 20 feet high, and you know where hot air goes? Up. Yes, I said the oven is on. It's the stove, actually. I'll get to that in minute. Don't freak out, mother.
I haven't unpacked entirely yet because in this place you can't finish anything when you first start it. Nothing. Not even a text message. I'll be surprised if I even finish this entry! I've decided this place is an alternate universe, it's the only way to explain some things, and I will have to devote a separate entry to that topic another day. But just know the only reason I am even typing this, now, after I wanted to be in bed already, is because I left my only toothpaste in my travel-safe-size bag in the office. And the office is the only place in this building that has internet. And I was so frustrated that I even had to march down here to get my toothpaste through the freezing halls, I sat down to share these lessons.
Earlier I was so distraught at thinking about having to sleep in a room where I couldn't stand without shivering unless all my 12 layers were on and my two hats, I turned the stove on - KNOWING one is NEVER to do that. Let's face it, fires start that way, I KNOW this. But I stayed there and stood to watch it heat, and it felt great, okay? I turned it off to go to Michele's for dinner. I wasn't 100% on leaving, I sort of felt I needed a night on my own, I crave my alone time and it's hard to come by in this alternate universe, but I went to dinner. As I put the stove top down over the eyes, I had a thought: ooh! You could warm your PJs on this warm-metal-stove-top-cover-thing and they'll be nice and toasty when you get back. Again, the stove was cooling down, nothing was turned on. So I laid my lovely flanel plaid long night shirt and black stretchy pants on the cover, and took off.
Dinner was lovely.
My apartment was surprisingly warmer when I got home. Or maybe my body was just warm from walking up the four flights of stairs? I started to undress, filled the furry hot water bottle Michele has lent me, I have PLENTY of hot water, and then remembered my PJs on the stove top. When I picked up my flanel top, under it on the white metal stove cover was a dark brownish spot.
Hmm.
I looked at the flanel shirt. Seeing what was there on the side that laid on the stove cover made me think of crispy na'an bread you eat at middle easter or indian restaurants. You know those black crunchy flakey parts? Not what you want to see on your flanel night shirt. There wasn't a black spot underneath where my stretchy pants laid, so I hoped for the best. I haven't decided what to do with the shirt yet. The black bit comes off on your fingers at the touch.
Changing clothes in the cold should be an olympic event. It's an art mastering the perfect timing of slipping off one pant leg while keeping wool sock on and quickly inserting leg into stretchy-pant leg then immediately back in to house shoe. Success! Time for the second half of my lower body. Mind you I still have on a tank-top, sweater, pullover, vest, down jacket and hat on my upper body. Second leg was a success, time to pull up stretchy pants to cover exposed-and-getting-colder-by-the-minute bum. My left hand's fingers went right through that side of my stretchy pants. Like paper.
FAIL. I guess I couldn't see the part of the stretchy pants that turned into na'an like blackness because the tights themselves are/were black. They're in the garbage now, and thankfully I brought a second pair.
So currently I'm sitting in my office, no heat in here either, writing this blog. I'm in my fully dressed and layered top half - although I threw my flat hair up into a bun and have the hat over it, I really look fantastic - and my stretchy pants and wool socks and house shoes.
I better not forget what I came all the way down here for: toothpaste!
Goodnight.
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