Is there really that much of a difference between 69 and 70 degrees? My nose thinks so. I turned down the thermostat that single degree yesterday, and last night my nose felt like a popsicle. But as we finished up our umpteenth day this winter of below-freezing temperatures, I count myself lucky that I didn't feel any colder.
I've mentioned many times that one of the perks of living in Ohio is controlling the temperature in your home. In our Brooklyn apartment, we couldn't control a thing -- not when the radiators turned on or off for the day or even the season. Not how hot they got. Not even how loud they got. Many was the morning we woke up to a loud BANG - BANG - BANG!
But the upside was that we didn't have to pay for the heat either. This is often inconvenient for renters -- there is absolutely no incentive, of course, for landlords to keep the heat at a comfortable temperature when the only thing they get out of it is a higher utility bill. Sure, New York City does have minimum temperatures that apartments must be kept at depending on the time of day, but I prefer it warmer. I yearn for the first few winters we were in New York and for some inexplicable reason our apartment was so hot that we had to crack open the windows. That, to me, was perfect.
Not in Ohio, however. We control the heat -- but we pay for it, too. I have no problem shelling out the cash for this convenience in a NORMAL WINTER. But with temperatures dropping to the negative degrees, eek: I'm scared to see the bill.
So fuzzy socks and hooded sweaters are pulled out of drawers. Shut go the doors separating the living room from the drafty windows of the kitchen and dining room. And 70 drops to 69, and hopefully no further. At least until that bill comes.