it's embarrassed 'cause it's lusting after/ a SUNY student with mousy brown hair/ who is taking out the compost/ making coffee in long underwear

Last night, my radiators came on. I could tell by the sound of pipes clanging as though a toddler had been let loose with an eighty-pound mallet around 4:30 a.m. I think they're on to stay now, although you never know when Toronto's weather will get wacky again. Having rescued my plants from the on top of them the last time they came on, I can enjoy the radiate-y goodness and look forward to an entire winter of trying to control my apartment's temperature with a wrench and occasional calls to the superintendant. ("Hey, Jack...we're in our mittens again up here.") Such are the quirks of living in an old building: the single-pane windows hemorrhage warm air, and the heating system is so old that to get it to come on at all on the top floor you have to broil all the other tenants. I love autumn.