Living in an Igloo

After waking up a tad late I was driven back to Bournemouth by Granny Sue who also treated me to a hot lunch at my local coffee shop. I told her 'This is be the last taste of quality I'll have in a while.' While she deemed that to be poppycock I was treated to an afternoon of less that luxury after getting home. The heating wouldn't turn on for the first two hours, at firth this didn't bother me too much but after I started seeing my own breath as I worked on my essay I decided that was an issue to be addressed immediately. Another few hours pass until it is revealed to me that there is effectively a 'boiler override' button I could press. At this point I was swearing an becoming delirious with being alone, cold and stressed out from the essay but the moment I heard that little click of ignition I could have earned an Olympic medal in jumping for joy.