I love sleeping in freezing cold rooms, unlike my wife, but…

We’re traveling for our daughter’s tennis tournament and staying at a hotel. We are in a desert (Palm Springs) though it’s not hot here at this time of the year; the evenings are on the chillier side. Before heading out for dinner last night — it was my wife’s birthday — I sneakily set the AC to a really low temperature. As I said, it wasn’t even warm outside. I just like my space cold. When we came back, it was cold, even for me, but I didn’t mind. It’s exactly what I wanted. I was looking forward to climbing under a warm blanket and sleeping in a very cold temperature.

Of course, my wife threw a tantrum.

This is a recurring theme. If I could leave the window open even when it’s very cold — I would. In fact, when I’m on my own, I sleep an inch away from a wide-open window of the balcony of our second-floor apartment. It’s almost like sleeping outside. And if it’s hot outside, of course, I put the AC to the lowest possible temperature. My wife always complains. When I lived in Russia, I’d try to leave the window slightly open at night even on brutally cold days in the winter.

Last night’s incident made me think about my other relationships with temperatures.

I like sleeping in a cold room, but I like living in hot weather. I’ll always pick a warm place — a desert or even humid Florida that I often criticize — over a multi-seasonal place. I don’t need seasons! I used to know them well — I’m Russian, and I also lived in Boston. But I…