The heat is dead. Thermostat’s set to 71 as usual, but it dropped to 60 yesterday evening and right about 52 by midnight. It was 50 this morning.
Called maintenance last night, and probably again pretty shortly, but of course it’s the weekend. Chances look less than great.
Course they still haven’t fixed the leak. The one we’ve been calling about since June. Fuckers.
These are the rare moments when buying a house seems reasonable.
Turns out that some thermostats run on batteries. Maybe there’s a logical reason for this, rather than just hardwiring them in, but I can’t fathom what that reason would be. It sounds like a retarded, backassward idea. But anyway, dad suggested I replace the batteries, so I did. The heat is fine. I feel a little stupid.
Turns out now that I was right in the first place, because it’s 6 a.m. two days after Christmas and it’s 55 again. And now I’m getting a chest cold. We’re getting the fuck out of this place as fast as we can.
Fixed, and they showed up pretty quick. Still a pain in the ass, but I’m not concerned about me or the cats freezing right now. That is good.