It’s cloudy and a light drizzle is falling. It’s almost November. It feels like it should be a perfect day to sit around in fuzzy, cozy, oversized clothing and enjoy some laid-back time with family.
There’s just one problem. Something in my DNA is telling me that it should be colder. Walking barefoot around the house on the tile should send me scurrying for a pair of slippers. Instead, it’s 80 degrees outside, and only a few degrees cooler inside.
I’m tempted to turn the A/C down to 60 or so, but methinks my wife may do something hasty when I nod off on the couch (something that’s bound to happen at some point today).