You will never hear the words, “I’m COLD!” or “I’m HOT!” come out of my mouth.   Unlike the rest of the human population, I am, apparently the only person alive who is always comfortable.   I can withstand Palm Springs’ 119-degree heat and not bat an eyelash.  I can easily tolerate sub-arctic temperatures too.   Heck, I grew up in Iowa where people scoffed at wind chills.

Believe me, though – internal temperature control does NOT run in the family.

My parents wear flannel pajamas to bed year-round.  My dad can often be found downstairs huddled in front of the fireplace with a cocoon of wool sweaters encasing him.  Mom will avoid going in this basement just so she doesn’t burst in to flame.   The house is usually set at a blistering 80 degrees in the winter … it’s like living in a Dutch oven.  But, again, it doesn’t bother me – I’ve gotten used to it.

My roommate, on the other hand, keeps the thermostat set so low you can actually see your breath in certain rooms.   He keeps meat hanging in his room, from what I can tell.  He blames his allergies.  “I cannot breath unless it’s 56 degrees in the house,” he laments.  He’s a bit of a Sweaty Betty – so I guess that beats the alternative … unrelenting perspiration.   Again, I’m unfazed by it.   I was considering getting a Sherpa as a house pet … at least he would feel right at home.

My internal thermometer is a good gauge of how I’m feeling.  If I ever feel cold or hot, it’s a sign I’m about to get sick.  Really sick.  Deathbed sick.  I don’t just get the chills.  I get a feverish, seizure-inducing chill – complete with uncontrollable shaking.  There’s nothing worse.  That rarely happens … but when it does, it’s ugly.

Typically, I’ll keep a jacket in my car just in case I need it.  It’s really more for looks.  I’d like my parents to think that I’m sensible and self-aware.  Plus, my mom always tells me to be prepared.  Clearly, she thinks I’ll be trapped in a blizzard or buried in avalanche.  It’s doubtful that will ever happen – mainly because my dad is singlehandedly heating the upper Midwest.  Global warming is not because of ozone depletion.  It’s because of my father’s sheer will and control of the thermostat.