my sole sources of warmth right now are:
tea, and
a space heater the size of a stereo speaker.
i feel like i'm about to come down with pneumonia.
brit j. bates wonders how the universe can justify this.
i wonder which karmic debt i'm being forced to pay off.
when i considered the possible downfalls of living in a one hundred and fifteen year-old house, Broken Furnaces didn't really cross my mind.
it is, however, kind of amusing that this only seems to happen when i have portfolio revisions to do.
but only kind of.
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