It’s cold here.
17 degrees to be exact. Which is really fucking cold. It’s coldest it’s been so far this year. Of course my mother would tell us to shut the fuck up because it’s 5 degrees there.
I only bring all of this up because my boyfriend actually said, “I think we should consider turning on the heat if it’s going to be this cold all weekend.” I don’t think it helped that I kept running my frozen hands up under his shirt, “annoying” him as he put it.
The reason it’s so cold in here is because Adam refuses to turn on the radiators. REFUSES. Because as you probably know it’s feast or famine when it comes to radiator heat in apartments in NYC. Without them you freeze. With them it’s a sauna. He prefers to be cold.
So we freeze.
It really IS only a problem when it gets really cold. The rest of the time it’s actually quite comfortable.
Except for our bedroom. It’s the only room in our apartment that’s has two exterior walls. It’s also not over the basement so it doesn’t get the heat from there either. SO IT’S FUCKING COLD. Some mornings I lie in bed and shiver after he leaves for work because it’s so cold. But he’s always HOT. So hot that until recently we were still sleeping with the air conditioner on. We are probably the only people in NYC whose electric bill is just as expensive in January as it is in August.
I don’t even know where I’m going with this. The moral of the story is that we’ll cuddle very close tonight and he’ll keep me warm. Then we’ll move to the kitchen/living room where we’ll cuddle under blankets drinking coffee and watching TV. And next Monday or Tuesday when the air starts to thaw we’ll go back to normal.
Just know that I’m on my way to take a very hot shower. But by the time I towel off and get in bed I’ll be cold again. And the first thing I’ll do is snuggle up close to him and giggle as he practically jumps out of bed because I’m so cold.
It makes me laugh every time.