Yesterday I went out to breakfast with drarwenchicken, and when I came home, it was 61° (American) in my apartment. A call was made to the Landlord. The nice repair person was here within the hour, and reported that the wires to the pump that sends heated water squooshing over my ceiling had been disconnected. Nobody knows why (pixies, maybe?). He reattached them.
Last night my little home was gloriously warm, although noisier. At night I could hear the clicks, ticks, pops, and gurgles across the ceiling. I'm sure I'll get used to it, and stop noticing, but last night was like sleeping in a big tent during a light rain. Except it was warm, and I didn't have to worry about being eaten by cows in my sleep.