My Friggin’ House

I’m happy to report that I have recovered from the illness which debilitated me through the majority of last week. Thank you for your support during that difficult time, it was a bit touch and go there at some moments. But it turns out that there is not much that a gallon of Nyquil and 84 straight hours of sleep can’t cure. Netflix also helps the process. You watch a movie, put it in your mailbox and when you wake up from your medicine coma there is already a new one waiting to watch. It’s a miracle really.

I think I’ve figured out at least part of the reason for my extended illness. My friggin’ house is trying to kill me. Kinda like a horror movie, only instead of slamming doors and sending ghosts my house is just trying to freeze me to death. You know what I am looking for in my next house? Insulation. The rest is just details. If I could please live in a house that is able to maintain temperatures greater than that of the outdoors during the winter I would be ever so happy. I’m a simple girl.

It cannot be normal for a home to be as cold as our home, it really can’t. And it also can’t be normal for both my roommate and I to wear three layers of clothes to bed as well as sleep under four blankets/down comforters and yet still have an electricity bill which hovers around $200 a month in the winter. What the? For $200 a month I should be sitting here naked and not shivering even at all. (I actually might have to start resorting to such exhibitionism to help offset my electricity costs. (Don’t forget I’ve got an in with the stripper businesses in town.))

It all makes really no sense at all. We never have our heater on, because it is completely useless when it comes to warming the house. Yet we are still paying out the wazoo for electricity (and might have to resort to showing our wazoo’s to help pay the bill). One reason for this may be the space heaters that each of us have in our room. I think they might be taking up quite a bit of electricity. Why do I think that? Well, every time we both have our space heaters on and one of us turns on a hair dryer the entire upstairs’ electricity goes out. Then one of us has to hike downstairs, outside and around the house to the circuit breaker thingy. The other one opens an upstairs window and listens for, “I don’t know, I turned a bunch of switches off and on, did that work? Ooops, that was the neighbor’s house, okay now check.”

You know how Old Victorian houses look so cute and quaint and spacious and fun? Well they are. But all those things fall under the “Victorian” part of the title. Falling under the “Old” part you will find leaks and questionable basements and high bills and oh my god I can’t feel my nose.

And that’s all I have to say about that.