Isn't it Alanis?

Alanis: Something that isn't really ironic, but since the meaning of that word has been ruined by people like Alanis Morissette, people would likely say "How ironic" or something similarly idiotic about it.

Rain on your wedding day? That's just shitty luck. But I've gone off on this before, so on to the tale at hand.

It's cold here in Minneapolis these days - really damn cold. That's not a huge thing, really - this is the upper Midwest after all, and unlike many of my neighbors I'm perfectly able to survive a little cold snap without incident and with minimal complaint.

What I may not survive is the fact that my apartment is like 30 majillion degrees - seriously, it's ridiculously hot. And it's like a desert heat - just dry and hot. Turn down my heat, you say? Gee, I didn't think of that! Of course I thought of that, dumbass, and my heat's been turned down as low as I can make it go for like a week. Doesn't matter - since I live on the top floor of a big brick building in which my neighbors must have their own heat full-on cranked, I'm provided with more than enough heat from them to make my place an arid hell hole.

Each morning as I prepare to go out and brave the winter cold, I first have to survive my own little inferno - I spend the final five minutes trying to put the clothes on that I've spent the rest of the morning trying to avoid in hopes that I won't end up sweating like pig right before I walk out into the sub-zero air. I get home and immediately start ripping off clothing to acclimate myself, while also being careful not to step on my cats who are lying flat on the floor in an effort to get as much surface area going as possible to dissipate the heat.

I'd open a window, but NOOOO... my landlords flip out and send letters explaining how quickly water pipes can freeze if I do that. Clearly, they've not been in my apartment during the winter - friggin' Cold Miser couldn't freeze those pipes, no way. So the windows stay shut, and we keep cooking away.

I know, I know - this is a pretty lame, pedestrian complaint. I do know this, and I'm well aware that as I type this little missive the cold is literally killing people. I really shouldn't complain.

But that's never stopped me before, and dammit it's too hot in my apartment!