cold house
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Kokubunji, 2021.01.12
This new residence of ours is about thirty years old. It is uninsulated and has been cold as hell these past few days as winter has settled in. So cold that there was a tiny raft of crystals of ice in the cup I leave next to the bed (in this place, that means on a window-sill). We're now using all the heaters I bought just before Christmas all the time. I knew this place would be cold but I didn't think it would be bad enough that it's hard to use a phone because the phone doesn't recognize your fingertip as being remotely body temperature. Or that a computer mouse would refuse to click. Madness!
I guess we'll have to do better with the next home. Who knows what we're spending on electricity!