This is now our fourth fall/winter in our current apartment. Every year around this time, the boiler will start kicking on at night as chillier temperatures approach. This, to many people, is probably a lovely seasonal indicator. Unfortunately for us, the boiler is located directly beneath our bedroom. During this transitional season, when the temperatures rarely dip below the high 40's, you might drift off to sleep at a comfortable 68°, but awaken 3 hours later to a balmy 102°. In the last few weeks, a team of illegal immigrants dug holes in our basement with pick-axes (don't get me started on just how wrong this whole operation was) and replaced the boiler. The Dr. and I secretly hoped that the new heating equipment would free us from this period of sweltering insomnia usually observed only equatorial climates. Alas, I woke last night around midnight, and it seems that the new boiler is even more effective than the last. It was literally 110° in my bedroom. It was so hot, I had to open all the windows to their full height and put fans on just to be comfortable, and even then I didn't need a blanket. Mother fucking fuck.
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