Feeling: weirdly cold
Listening to: James Brown - Get Up Off o' That Thang
Reading/Watching: As Good as It Gets

Okay, so Texas is the land of two seasons, right? There's Summer, and there's January.

But for some reason, I am sitting in my apartment this morning, debating whether or not to turn on the heat. It's sixty-five degrees in here, according to the thermostat. The air conditioning is supposed to come on when it's seventy-eight, so obviously it's not running. It's just cold. In Texas. In late March.

And normally I'd say that sixty-five is comfy, and I can just throw on a sweater and slippers and deal. But my toes, fingers, and nose are all numb, even with sweaters and slippers. One minus side to losing forty-five pounds is that I've lost all my natural insulation. I suspect our thermostat is a bit off, so it might very well be colder than sixty-five. My skinny ass is too wimpy to handle colder than sixty-five, apparently.

Even though I have a serious logistic issue with turning the heater on in March, now the weather service is warning that there could be a freeze on Friday. This place just keeps getting freakier.

That's it. I'll just have to let mon coeur go on thinking that I'm a pampered brat who is intent on blowing all of his income on electricity bills (although right now, I'm responsible for paying the electric bill, and we don't have a joint bank account yet. So technically, I'm blowing my income).

I need warmth, and I can't just take another scalding hot shower to bring feeling back to my toes. Because I just got my hair to do something I like, and I will not get it wet again. (Plus, you know, it'd be wasting water. Yeah, that's it.)

If the temperature is back to the eighties tomorrow, I'm writing Mother Nature a very angry letter.

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