Igloo Outside, Sauna Inside

It's exactly 20 degrees outside, and our apartment is so hot that I have the living room window open.

I can't bear to wear long sleeve shirts inside the apartment, and I haven't used a blanket in the living room for weeks. I think I moved into a sauna.

Despite what this sounds like, I'm really not complaining. I'd much rather be a bit too hot than way too cold. Even so, I think I am becoming hardier when it comes to the winter weather.

I've only put on my hat a handful of times during my six-minute walk to the subway on weekday mornings. Friday was one of the coldest mornings so far, and the biting wind made my eyes tear up as I walked north. Even so, I shed my hat and gloves when I entered the subway station.

Before I moved to New York, I figured all subway stations underground would be a reasonable temperature-- not room temperature maybe, but not too uncomfortable either. But it's really a mixed bag.

Some seem barely warmer than outdoors. At the 59th Street station in Brooklyn, sometimes I think my toes are suffering from the beginning stages of frostbite before the train comes. Other stations aren't so bad at all. I've read that the stations at the beginning and end of the lines are warmest because the trains idle there so long.

Paul spends quite a bit of time in Queens, where a lot of the trains (and their stations) are above ground. Nice in the summer. Not so great in the winter.