Unseasonal temperatures

It's two o'clock in the morning. All summer and fall as I was woken by my neighbours in the middle of the night I would console myself with the thought that once we got to winter everyone would go indoors and shut their windows and it would all be much quieter. It is, largely - at least no-one hangs out talking loudly in the courtyard any more - but there are new and unimagined problems instead.

Somewhere between two and four each night my radiators - even the ones I have shut off, which is now pretty much all of them except for the one in my tiny bathroom that is stuck very firmly at full blast - begin to rattle and bubble more hysterically as if there is a bad witch hidden somewhere in the building who starts to feed her fattened children into the furnace at around that time. I wake up to find that the heat in the place has intensified to the point that even though I'm sleeping with my windows open I have to get up and throw them wide just to be able to breathe again. I go round and feel each of my radiators to see if I've somehow mistakenly turned them back on without noticing, and can then only conclude that the heat is seeping in through the floorboards and walls as the witch cackles down below over her plan to suffocate us all in our sleep.

I'm looking forward to leaving on Monday for a while.