The icicles outside the window get longer every day. If this interminable winter continues to combine with this badly insulated building they will grow right to the ground, a floor below us. Transparent bars over the windows. A heavy arctic wall between my view and the XO house, thank goodness. There are no icicles over the doors, so I'll probably have to go to classes anyway.
For now the slowly dripping cold stalactites only reach to the middle sash, but a girl can dream, can't she?
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