I hate being too warm when I'm trying to sleep. I'm a finicky sleeper already, so having to throw off the blankets because I'm drenched in sweat doesn't really help me get a great night of rest. Because of this, I am always reluctant to heat my bedroom too well. This has been the best year ever for climate control, because each bedroom has its own thermostat. I've found that even on the lowest setting, I get too warm, so I've taken to only turning on the heat when I'm a) home and b) awake. This means I run the heat from about 4 in the afternoon til about 12 or 1, when I get into bed. And really, it's been working out really well for me. At least, it was until this weekend.
I think, generally, the heat in my room slowly disappears over the course of the night. It's cool when I wake up at 8am, but this weekend? When I woke up at 11? It had become frigid. I didn't want to get out of bed so much that I called Christina and asked her to come in and turn on the heat before I got out of bed. It really was that cold.
So last night I decided I was going to have a hard enough time getting up this morning without the fear of turning into an ice cube when I got out of bed. So, I gave in, and left the heat on. And I woke up all sweaty. But I am SO not complaining, because it was worth it not to wake up next to a frozen glass of water or with frostbitten ears. Why do I think this could have happened? Because when I checked the weather before heading out, this was the temperature:
I am fairly certain that if I hadn't turned on the heat, I would still be in my bed, waiting for one of my roommates to come find me and save me from hypothermia. So: the heat stays on until friendlier temperatures return. I have learned my lesson.