Getting Soft

There region in which I live has been going through some far-ranging temperature shifts . . . like 20-30 degrees in a few days time. Of course, in this area of the country it is not unheard of to have to run your car's heat and A/C all in the course of the same day, hee hee.

STILL, this is the first fall/winter season in which I have been a homeowner, and thus I am more concerned about my gas bill than I have been in the past (hell, most of the apartments I lived in didn't include a separate gas bill). Thus, I have not yet been willing to flick the heat on in our house yet. But this has made for some chilly nights lately.

I used to be so much tougher when it came to being too hot or too cold in my assorted homes as I grew up. This is due to my mother, the original bill-miser, REFUSING to ever let me turn on the A/C or heat wherever we lived, even if the cost was already rolled into our monthly rent payment. The heat always bothered me more than the cold, to the point that I can actually remember CRYING, pleading for my mom to let me turn it on for just a few minutes, as my asthma made it nearly impossible sometimes to get any relief. Thank gawd once I got old enough to drive I just learned to haul ass to the mall for free A/C, or to stay overnight at a friend's house when it became unbearable. Nonetheless, I still probably harbor some lingering resentment for the sticky summer evenings in which my already-temperamental hair wound up looking like ka-ka due to my mom's refusal to A/C-accomodate me for the 15 minutes it took me to style my hair. Grrrr.

When we moved to the Bay Area in order for Dr. J to go to graduate school, my father-in-law (himself a former Bay Area resident) warned me, in his New Yahk accent, that "You'll get soft living in the Bay Area," due to the mild climate in the winters (though we had some scorching summers during the rolling blackouts, oi vey). Generally, I do NOT bitch about the cold weather, as I love wintery scenery. But when it's this chilly in my house . . . well, I begin to fear my father-in-law may be right.

Dr. J made me so friggin' happy last Thursday night, when I came home late from a political fundraiser, tired as hell & knowing I would be getting only 4 hours sleep before I had to be awake for an early-morning legislative breakfast, by surprising me with . . . having put our electric mattress pad on our big bed. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!! Ahhhh, I was in esctasy as I crawled on top of my toasty mattress!

Last night was another cold one. No heat in the house, per our attempt to NOT flick on the furnace in October. It was nice to curl up in that bed, all nice and warm, mmmmm.

But DAMN, was it difficult to get out of bed this morning, as a result. I kept hitting the snooze button on my alarm, and Dr. J kept trying to keep me from getting out of bed (damn you).

I finally swung my feet on the floor, fluffy bathrobe wrapped around me, and padded my way to the bathroom. And as I sat down on the chilled toilet I could only focus on one thought:

I LEFT A COZY BED AND A WARM MAN FOR THIS?!?!