As winter made its way into mid-Missouri last November, I zealously kept the thermostat at 65 degrees during the day, and turned it down to 60 at night. I like a cool room for sleeping, and besides, propane is expensive.
I kept that routine with diligence throughout December. Then January brought sub-zero temperatures that wrapped around my house, seeped into my bones, and wouldn't leave. I began to wander through the house with a blanket wrapped around my body. The house seemed too cool at times, but I'd look at the thermostat, and it showed that the furnace was chugging along doing its job: set at 65, it reaches 72 before shutting off, and lights off again at exactly 64. So why did I feel so much colder than I had i December?
As the bone-chilling cold lingered, I found myself nudging the thermostat upward to 68, then to 70. I stopped turning it down before going to bed. The heck with the cost of propane; we're on the level-pay plan anyway, and so far we're more that $500 ahead.
That's what this winter is doing to me, turning me into a wimp. The longer it goes on, the more heat I need.
I'm so ashamed.