I'm freezing. My husband is toasty. I sleep in full flannel jammies under our comforter and an extra blanket that is only on my side of the bed. My husband sleeps in his undies with the sheet over him. My favorite number on the thermostat is 74, his is 67.
It's starting already. Every year we go through this. Me being cold, him being warm, me sneaking the thermostat up, him complaining and plunging it back down to indoor refrigeration temperatures.
I can't help it if I'm always cold. Heck, I even wear sweaters and long sleeves in the summer. It's not easy being constantly chilly. I wish I could get some sympathy around here.
My favorite thing is to be alone in the car and to crank the heat up to scorch. It's like driving around in my own personal sauna. It's all the better if the sun is shining directly in on me. Maybe I'm some sort of reptilian freak that needs the warmth of the sun to function.
It's really not even winter yet, and it's been unseasonably warm around here, but you'll still find me in at least 2 layers. Around the house. When winter arrives it will be my standard 3 layers for indoor comfort. You'll also find me in my usual spot. Perched right in front of our heater so that I can absorb as much hot air as possible as it blows out.
Yes, being me in the winter isn't easy. I really think my inner thermostat must be broken. Brrrrrr. Going to get my flannels on now and curl up in a ball under the blankies!