New Year. Yeah, so? Is it going to put food on my plate, comfort me when I need comforting, pay for my baby's diapers? I didn't think so. So why all the celebrating?
Forgive me for being a downer, I'm sleepy. I think I only got an hour or two of sleep last night, which in no way reflects the evening I had. I just couldn't sleep. First time in a long time. I tried taking a nap today but when I lay back in bed and shut my eyes, Steve started shoveling noisily outside my window. Somehow he knows to start making a racket at the most inopportune times. He's got the shine.
I got out of bed and peaked out the window. His driveway had been thoroughly cleared last night, so much so that in most areas the driveway itself was visible. This, however, did not prevent Steve from having a go at it. I watched him apply his shovel to the few areas where the snow lay. He moved a couple of trash barrels away from the side of his house so he could shovel away the snow that collected there. He kept it up for about an hour. I gave up on napping. Chalk up another victory for Steve. Best of luck with the OCD, my friend.
Speaking of OCD, Rich threw a little tantrum last night about the heat. Getting tired of reading about our heating issues yet? It's beginning to be a daily issue with this clown. Winter Rich is a son of a bitch. Hey, that rhymed! That will be the mantra until spring: Winter Rich is a son of a bitch. Love it!
Anyhow, around midnight last night, I was sitting in bed and noticed that the house had become noticeably cooler. I was about to go pick up Mara, so I figured I'd turn up the heat a bit, so that the house would be at a comfortable temperature by the time we got back. The thermostat read 62 degrees before I turned it up to 65. No wonder I was freezing.
I went upstairs and put my jacket on. I didn't bother closing my door. I knew, based on previous experience, that Rich would be coming out of his room to see what I did to the thermostat. Sure enough, he did that very thing about a minute after I changed the temp. He didn't realize that I could see him from my vantage point at the top of the stairs and that's when he threw his little tantrum.
"You've got to be kidding me!" he said in absolute disbelief. "Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck!"
As he was spitting out that last bit, I made my way down the stairs. He was walking back to his room and looked surprised to see me. I asked him if he had anything to say to me. He answered by not saying anything at all and retreating back to his room.
I know a lot of people who are energy-conscious that keep the heat, especially when it's frigid like it was last night, higher than I had it. Rich acted as if I turned the heat up to 80. My father, a man who will go to practically any lengths to save on utility bills, laughed when I told him what Rich did. "Even I keep the heat higher than what you had it at", he said.
My position regarding the heat has always leaned towards conservation while being comfortable. Rich patrols the apartment like a power-mad hall monitor when it comes to the heat and I'm just about sick of it.
My first instinct was to give him an ultimatum: Layoff on the heat or find a new place to live. I still feel that way more or less, but after talking with Janelle about it earlier this evening, I'm confident this matter can be dealt with diplomatically. I'm trying to keep in mind that Rich has other issues that are contributing to his behavior regarding the heat and that I should at least try to be sympathetic. That only goes so far, though.
Back to work tomorrow. I really, really, hope it doesn't snow. I'm already well past being sick of it.
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