to have stayed in bed, listening to the snow and watching Merchant Ivory films. I am melancholy, for no clear reason, but when the outside matches my emotional state I want to wallow my way through it.
And now it appears that the furnace in the house isn't working -- again. The heating guy had to come out on Saturday (charging us weekend rates, of course) when the furnace stopped working. It is now Wednesday, right? One would think the furnace -- after being fixed -- would not have stopped tonight, when to call the heating guy again means he has to come out for night-time rates. It is 18 degrees F outside.
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