Fire can not kill a dragon but the cold just might

I woke up on Friday to a freezing cold house. My heating died. Kaput. It was so cold. But mum had already called The Gas Man and he was on his way (Perks of having an OAP in the house is they don’t make you wait a week).

He came, he saw, he failed.

Apparently the third part in the process of heating was broken and he was going to get the part and come back first thing on Saturday.

I woke up on Saturday to a freezing cold house. (I would like to add I don’t get up till lunch time, what happened to first thing?!?) Anyway, he turned up in the afternoon with the part, proceeded to fix said part. Only to find out that part four in the process was now broken. The very nice Gas Man said he would order part four and part five this time just incase. But, he wouldn’t be back till Monday.

Oh no.

I Me looking very cold and fed up donned my fluffy socks, woolly arm warmers, and my Targaryen hoodie. Hid under my heavy duvet, pulled the hood around me and buried myself in pillows. Then spent the weekend physically shivering. It sucks so much having rubbish temperature control and inability to produce heat.

I woke up on Sunday to a freezing cold house. And refused to leave my covers apart from very quick and infrequent trips to the loo. But its okay, by the time I wake up tomorrow, I thought, it will be warm.

I woke up on Monday to a freezing cold house. Ready to cry.

But, finally, The Gas Man arrived at about 4pm and fixed it. You go Gas Man! A couple hours later and I was warm for the first time in three days.

Then I crashed. Badly.

I was in so much pain from the cold and absolutely exhausted from the shivering/trying to heat myself. I dozed in and out, partially incoherent for a few hours til dinner arrived. (I may have stared at my dad for a bit too long trying to figure out why he was standing in my room with a bowl of food. Oh right, dinner!).

targ