In more ways than one.
My parents are pretty awesome sometimes. They are allowing me to live rent-free in their condo down here, and they even pay the electricity bill. Pretty nifty considering I have spendy wine and no wine fridge. I keep the house at no more than 75 degrees typically.
Except that I like it warmer. When Kyle and I lived together, I was constantly sneaking to turn up the air to 78 and he was following right behind me, turning it down to 72.
Apparently he's decided that his electricity bill is more important than his comfort, because he keeps his house much warmer than mine. Plus, he has an abnormally high body temperature (or it feels that way sometimes) so you hardly need a blanket when he's in bed.
Every time I come home now, I'm freakishly cold. My house is chilly. And every night before I go to bed, I turn up the heat because I don't have a bed-warmer sleeping over.
It's amusing the things I take for granted sometimes. Super cheap housing, a snugglebug, and good morning kisses even when you have stank breath.
Life isn't so bad after-all. I'm a pretty lucky lady.