Every year I try to convince myself that I am going to turn my thermostat down for the entire winter. It's going to be 68 degrees or lower, I tell myself. I'm not going to turn it up for any reason. I might even be daring and try to get a few degrees lower! It'll be awesome!
It usually doesn't end well. You see, I'm a gigantic wuss about the cold. Something always happens—it takes me 4 hours to drive home in the snow, I have a lousy day, or it drops beneath zero degrees Fahrenheit—and suddenly I want to treat myself to a balmy 70 degrees to make up for it.