Why? Because cold is everywhere.
We’re definitely getting into the wintery months here in the Netherlands, I can feel it while typing this blog post. There’s already a small electric radiator furnishing my room, and I have its (mechanical!) timer set to fire in bursts of fifteen minutes, with thirty minutes in-between. As non-granular as that is, it did a fine job of heating my room without overcooking it.
Did, until these past few days. As it gets progressively colder outside, the warmth gets torn from our very flesh with much more ease. The floor is perpetually icy cold, even protected feet stand no chance. Closing the curtains no longer troubles the heat in its quest to seep through the double glass windows. The forces of entropy are simply too strong, no grasp will twarth its play.
And yet, I don’t turn up the heat more frequently. After all, an overheated room is no more comfortable than a just barely cold one. Or perhaps I’m just stubborn, unwilling to admit my inability to withstand these minimal drops in temperature, desiring to grow thicker literal skin.
Oh how I long to be Toasty™.