My apartment is so hot.

And not because my couch has a red velour slipcover, which tinselet once said was "really damn sexy", and I have a witness to prove it.

Although the velour is contributing to the problem in a different way. I'm talking pure temperature here. See, after having been spoiled with a fairly modern apartment building for two years, I moved here, into a mid-century building where individual tenants have no control over the heat.

My apartment is heated by way of heat leaking through the interior walls. My bed was once located right next to the worst such wall, which is why I recently rearranged my furniture, so my bed is by the window now.

I slept as close as possible to the window with the window open last night, despite the sub-freezing temperatures outside, and it was pretty comfortable. That's how hot my apartment is.

Seriously, if my apartment had a theme song, it would be "Burning Down the House". Even the line about "You might need a raincoat".