It was a whopping 59 degrees in my apartment when I returned from helping to paint the GTs' basement. Painting, a beer and the best bagel I've ever eaten in my life, did warm me up a bit.
That wasn't going to last long after I got home, though. So, I piled on the layers after I showered (I'm wearing a camisole, tank top, two short-sleeve t-shirts and one long-sleeve t-shirt) and commenced to baking.
So far, I've got two loaves of banana bread done, I'm on my third tray of chocolate chip cookies and I'll for sure be making rhubarb crisp yet to take home for Mother's Day lunch tomorrow. I may get some scones in, too. I'm thinking lemon blueberry ...
Had to do the laundry today, too, because it takes my clothes forever to dry when it's cold in here. Honestly. This shit is ridiculous. I really just wanted to come home after painting and lay on the couch. But that means I'll get cold. And if it's going to get into the low 30s tonight, I have to warm this place up as much as possible.
I spent an entire week worrying that this would happen. I struggled over whether I should call the management company in advance of the weekend to tell them it was too cold in here. But it was still 63 in here when I woke up yesterday, so it didn't feel right. Now I get to be miserable.
The extended forecast seems to show that a week from now, this will all be a bad memory. I hope that holds. Meanwhile, I'll keep baking and keep piling on the layers. I've got a hat and scarf handy for when I finally settle down for the night.