I live down south, where the two of us run the cooling system nearly all year round.
I never need to wear more than a sweatshirt to keep warm.
I don’t own a wool coat, knitted hat or heavy boots. I enjoy fresh air plus sunshine, and my sibling lives way up north, where it’s frigid plus wet most of the time. She consistently begs me to come visit him for the holidays. She insists that a actually white Christmas is ideal. I finally gave in plus bought a plane ticket this past December. I packed a suitcase with our warmest clothes. As soon as the two of us stepped outside the airport terminal, I knew I’d made a immense mistake. I immediately wanted to go back home. The temperature was twenty-eight degrees. While the snow was entirely charming, I didn’t care about our wet feet. I also kept slipping plus sliding on the icy pavement plus tugging a wheeled suitcase through the slush was difficult; Both of us then sat in our sibling’s chilly frigid car for approximately multiple minutes waiting for the furnace to supply enough warmth to melt the ice on the windshield. My sibling finally had to get out plus chisel the ice away with a scraper, then despite the furnace blasting at maximum capacity during the drive to her house, I shivered the whole time. I couldn’t wait to get inside. However, our sibling enjoys to save money whenever possible. He’d turned her control equipment way down before heading to the airport. Her lake house was so frigid that I could see our breath. I kept our coat on plus stood directly in front of a furnace vent, trying to thaw out. I was thankful for the heated blanket on the bed. While our sibling wanted to take me skiing, sledding plus go for walks in the snow, I just wanted to hide inside plus stay as close as possible to her heating system. Whenever she wasn’t paying attention, I raised the control equipment setting.