ICICLES

I ammm a man wh..o sssserious-ly needs to sort his h-heating out.

And it’s only October! There are atoms in this flat that are teetering on the brink of Absolute Zero; my milk has lumps in it, and I’m sure I can see icicles on the lampshades.

It’s my fault. I set the timers to come on too late. And it’s also my fault for not having proper central heating yet. That’s why this winter looks like an iceberg ahead - my inability to sort my life out!

But I promised I wouldn’t complain about that again. At least until I’ve done something about it.

And tonight, that means dressing like the Michelin Man and waddling around the place, in all my conceivable jumpers, until my portable heaters get their act together.

I suppose I could stick my head in the freezer, you know just to warm up.

Brrr.