Freeze baby freeze

I woke up this morning - always better than the alternative, got out of bed and headed to my computer. As I sat there checking e-mail I felt a little colder than usual. My heart sank. I reached over and felt the nearby baseboard which was cold. I got up, went to check the thermostat and saw that while it was set to 64 degrees it was 59 in my house. I ran downstairs to the basement to check the oil tank, and sure enough, the little floater was hovering on empty.

I do this about once a year. All right, sometimes twice. It's dangerous to gamble on memory when it comes to things like this, but it's the least expensive way I've found to manage my home heating needs. I knew it was four weeks to the day that I had gotten oil and had planned to check it today. A day too late apparently.

I have done this often enough in my years as a singleton, that the driver knows me. He lectures me every time he comes, and then charges me $15 for purging my oil burner. So basically I pay this man to make me feel bad. Well, maybe if oil wasn't $3.52 a gallon I would be full of oil and have it toasty warm here all the time, but as things are I eek along doing the best I can. I did get a smile from him last year when I ran out on Valentine's Day and was baking cookies - so I gave him a few for the road and hoped he wouldn't be mean anymore. Needless to say I baked a batch of chocolate chip today -partly so I could stand near the warm oven, but mostly because I'm a big wimp.

As I write this I look a lot like Mort from the "Bazooka Joe" comics with my sweater up to my nose, can barely type since my sweater sleeves are down around my fingertips, am sitting on a heating pad and wearing a hat. It's down to 55 in here and it's getting chillier by the moment. He should be here soon to rescue/shame me, so I'll finally be able to take a hot shower and take off a couple of layers.

I keep reminding myself that I love being a writer. I love being a writer. Lots of up and comers have had their struggles before they hit it big. For instance J.K. Rowling was on the dole when she wrote the first "Harry Potter," so I think this must mean that big break is right around the corner. And when I stop shivering, I'll look at it that way.