Allow me to lay out an image for you.
Recently Nashville got its first “blizzard” of the year, it went from 65 degrees to 23 degrees in only 24 hours. The frigid winter day transformed into an ice and snow filled night. It was breezy and cold.
I was preparing for bed, and the last thing, any longer, that I do is stroll over to the indoor regulator and turn it on. I don’t turn the intensity on as one would expect on a night where you glanced through the window, and maybe everything seemed to be glass. No, I turn the forced air system on, as I do each. single. night. I turn it down to 60 degrees on the grounds that… menopause.
However, the previous evening I chose to give the reins to Elderly person Winter and let him cool down my room, so I opened the window by the top of my bed. I didn’t open it like it was 65 degree, radiant, spring day, I opened it like it was 23 degrees and quickly hit in the face with the most great virus air. As I slithered into bed the breeze was yelling through the window, I had recently opened, my significant other strolled into the room. He just took a gander at me and before he got into bed, he put on a few warm up pants and a long sleeved shirt and slithered into bed.
I grinned at him, kissed him on the head, and both apologized and said thanks to him for being so understanding. Once more as I turned over to kill the light and get my earplugs, I was smacked in the face with that frosty air, and as I snatched my earplugs, I saw they were a piece frozen. I was concerned this would not have been really smart.