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Dear Furnace:

Just because this is the weakest excuse for a "winter" I've lived through in the twenty years I've lived in Canada is no excuse for you to shut off at random.

It supplies the heat or it gets the hose again.

No love,

-D.


Apparently it got the memo instead of the hose, though, as I came home, reset the circuit breaker again (because the switch for the furnace was actually correctly labelled, horror of horrors), and it happily hummed to life. I swear, every facet of my existence is getting in line to taunt me in order. I will be so glad when I come home on Friday and don't have to go anywhere near the University for ten days. Its turn is coming up and I don't really want to tempt fate.

When I said, yesterday, that reflection on life, love, and lust could wait, I doubt many of you were expecting me to do any in the foreseeable future. But it's been that kind of day, I guess. For what it's worth, I've learned a lot about myself that I needed to know, in my long, winding journey that has led almost, but not quite, right back to where I was this time last year, with a couple of new names added to the list of those I wish well at this time every year, my paradoxically plural Kallisti. With friends and more like these, I am gaining a thoroughly unrealistic portrayal of the female gender that someone is bound to take advantage of and wreck at some point in my future.

I have to thank you both, Lindsay and Amanda. I hope I left you with as little cause for regret as I myself have.

And maybe one of these days, my blessings will actually have some positive effect.

All that aside, the meme that's been assaulting me from all sides actually has some topicality for once. I cannot but take advantage of such a rare opportunity, and ask for volunteers to fill out my Johari window, and, because nobody is perfect, my Nohari window.

-D.