At our house we have (among several other non-functioning appliances) a gas floor heater. Yes, one of those monstrous things that makes noises like a car backfiring and spews out flaming heat waves that somehow only manage to heat about half of the house. It's got a huge dangerously hot grill that takes up almost all of the floor space in the hall that links basically every room in the house. I don't see why this thing ever seemed like a good idea. Since I've moved in there are a few things I've had to sacrifice to the floor furnace god. Yes, our god is an awesome god because he makes your socks toasty-barbecue style, but he is also vengeful.

A list of things I've lost would include:
Closing my door at night - I've had a neurosis for a few years that I must sleep with the door closed. It seems pretty harmless so I haven't gone to corrective therapy about it or anything. If I close my door at night now it gets so cold that I become disoriented and speak Russian.
Every cent in my bank account - to pay for the 2 ounces of natural gas we're using to raise the temperature to a toasty 54 F. mmmmm!
Not wearing socks - The only place in the house where it would be comfortable to not wear socks would be in a harnass hanging from the ceiling, dangling me over the furnace. Otherwise, it's all cold tootsies on hardwood floors.

Just now in the midst of my furnace spiel my roomate came in here to tell me that the reason our screen door hasn't been closing properly is that she just discovered our porch overhang is collapsing. I guess rain was just to heavy of a stress to expect our house to bear. Silly us.

Speaking of rain, the only thing it's good for is to make splattery sounds outside my window. Sadly, there's nothing outside my window for it to splatter on except grass, which is surprisingly mute. I think I'm going to buy a big piece of tin and set it up outside my window. Not only will it make my sleep pleasant, it will work nicely as a lean-to when our ceiling collapses onto our flaming furnace, taking this computer and my pea soup out in the process. Until then...