So... a while ago last fall I had this notion that I should get one of those kerosene heaters. My dad has one. This mostly ceramic oddjob in a circular cage burns at a rate enough to be almost too warm. So far, I used it once when the pilot light went out.
The pilot light on this furnace is retarded. The day it went out, I trucked it down to the basement of doom and was thoroughly befuddled. I saw nothing that looked like a pilot light, and the dead remains of a thousand old matches were scattered in no apparent pattern, suggesting that tennants past had the same problem. The landlord sent someone over, who knew it quite well. When you look into this thing, there's a thick wall of pipes blocking the top half, and a tangle of wires webbed across the bottom half. You really can't see the pilot light even when it's on short of mirrors or flexibility that would make a gymnast blush.
Mr Maintenance showed me where it was. It was deeply hidden.
This morning, I discovered that once again I needed to cook up some hydrocarbons. Pilot light is on. When it tried to kick in and warm the place up, the beast sounded sick. The sickest part, though, is that I could see my breath when I woke up. Let me reiterate that:
I could see my own breath before I got out of bed this morning.
It's that freakin cold in here. Mr Landlord is sending over Mr Maintenance, but they're taking their sweet time. On the bright side, I think my CPU is running at optimal efficiency.
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