When I get up in the morning, I keep playing with the heater in the house trying to get the right temperature so it’s a sort of comfortable waking-up temperature. So I don’t get that Siberian gulag feeling that Southern Californians tend to get when the air drops below a painful sixty degrees.
I’ve tried seventy which is incredible for little while, but then eventually starts to make my body feel like it’s imploding; as though a long bath of freezing cold ice water would be perfect right at that moment.
Sixty eight is my next test and I’ll get back to you on that one.
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