Our upstairs has ALWAYS been cold.
OK, fine, it's been like the tundra; but that's how it's been since, forever. Sears makes Paddington one piece footed jammies for a reason.
Bella headed off to dance; the heat never went down.
Then it was 10:30 at night. Not one of us really noticed just how warm it was upstairs as we were getting ready for bed.
I tossed and turned like a salad in a bowl. You know, coupled WITH hot flashes it was like sleeping in a brick pizza oven. Naturally, this morning, I was tired and headachy and blech when I woke up.
Peter came downstairs. The first thing he said was he got up at 1:00AM and took a cold shower because WHY WAS IT SO HOT UP THERE? This was followed by groaning, moaning, and "I think I need coffee."
When Bella came downstairs we were a united front.
"BELLA! Didn't you notice how HOT it was last night?"
"I KNOW! I had to toss my blankets off and put on a tank top. It was the best sleep I've had in a while."
"Did YOU think to turn down the heat?!?!!!"
"Not at all. I liked waking up and not shivering."
I hope she recalls how comfy she was last night and adds one more of the three hundred blankets she has in her room onto her bed. She's going to need them.
I realize this is a first world problem and yes, I am truly grateful for the ability to have heat and 300 blankets, but boy oh boy, being too hot while I sleep makes for a whining morning.
Go ahead, what's your rant for today?
Get over it
All this bitchin' and moanin' and pitchin' a fit
Get over it, get over it