Paradisio

In many dialects, the word "tropical" is almost always followed by "paradise."

In which case, I could hang such a sign above my bedroom door and charge tourists large sums of money to visit.

But it occurs to me now that that could be misconstrued as something illegal, so let's return to the subject at hand:

The ectoplasm seeping through my bedroom walls is quite possibly a leak in the radiator system, with the steamy hot water surrounding me from all sides.

It's such a shame, too, as I've been beyond thrilled to find this new apartment to be so... warm... in comparison to the last one. Turns out I've been comfortably warm while others around me are suffering with cold, and the yellow liquid appearing from my walls is a big clue that there are serious problems.

And my sister — who isn't a heating and cooling specialist but who did recently have similar problems in her home — seems to think they'll need to "open up" the walls to dry things out (in which case I'd be homeless for any number of days). I'm trying to remain nevertheless optimistic about the whole ordeal.

Here's what I mean:

The air in my bedroom was too humid last night to even bother trying to sleep, so I gathered my things and headed to my sofa — a futon, actually, that's miserable to sit on but that would otherwise suit Goldilocks' narcoleptic purposes just fine.

Just beyond my sofa, my blinds were half open to reveal the snow-covered limbs of the tree outside of my window. The wind was blowing, too, swirling large flakes mid-air and creating the sort of hum that made it difficult to not want to keep my eyes focused on the white world outside.

It was quite lovely, if I may say so, the experience of which was enhanced by the presence of the world's most comfortable blanket: a miracle that my brother brought back from Afghanistan. It's unbelievably soft, retains the relaxing scent of lavender fabric softener long between washings, and seems to magically keep you nice and warm without ever getting too hot.

My only regret was that I had to wake up and realize I'm no longer in school, and "snow days" are very much so a thing of my past. Days like today are perfect for staying home, watching movies, sipping hot chocolate, and taking snowshoes out of retirement (but not necessarily in that order).

Anyway. Happy Hanukkah, folks. Or Chanukkah, if you prefer your celebrations with a capital "C."