Everyone knows that people don't adapt to change well. I am no exception.

My mother is insane. For more details, please refer to picture on the right.

During the summer, my mother keeps my house at an insane temperature of seventy-six degrees.

Now, before I get to where I'm going with this, I would like to take the time to say that the air circulation to my room is not the best. During the winter, it's easily two or three degrees colder than the rest of the house. During the summer, it's definitely three or four degrees warmer than everything else. So when I say seventy-six, I really mean seventy-eight or nine. Now, this past summer, the air conditioner for the lower half of my house broke. You see, I live on the upper half, but hot air rises. It goes up the stairs and into my room.

Especially this season, my family has been getting sick and I've been quarantining myself in my room, with the door closed. To have my room be at least slightly similar to the temperature of the rest of the house, the door has to be open. Do you see my moral dilemma?

Back to your original broadcast.

During the winter, my mother keeps my house at sixty-six.

That, my friends, is a more-than ten degree difference between summer and winter. I cannot adapt to this. At all. I've been trying and trying and my whole life, I have failed. I have been piling blankets on top of my comforter and hugging scalding hot water bottles.

I don't think I have the best circulation in the world. My nose is always frozen in the winter. Whenever I type, my fingers freeze (usually it's not to the keyboard). And even with the fuzziest socks, my toes are stull numb.

So currently, I have a hoodie on over my normal clothes. I'm (un)happy to tell all of you that I'm still shivering. Now, I could get up, get my Snuggie or a blanket or some gloves, but it's not always helpful, because I cannot type with gloves on. My fingers slip around and I always end up keyboard mashing on accident.

My solution to my warmth issue? Whine and complain at my mother in hope that the movement will warm me up, because I know she will not move the temperature from that hideous spot. I also suppose that I could go downstairs, where my grandmother is amazing and likes temperatures over seventy. But there's no computer to blog on.

Why am I listening to Glee music while eating green Twizzlers and drinking Black Cherry Jones?

This is not a normal occurrence for me. My mom rarely buys me Twizzlers (Nellie's dad bought them on the way home from their boat. Which was really fun, by the way. Nellie and I went to Cedar Point.) and I only have Jones at school where I actually have a place nearby to buy it. And I never listen to Glee music unless I'm like... watching the show with Gigi (who is old and loves it).

Anyway, I totally slept on a freaking BOAT the last two nights. My brain still has not switched into land mode. My brain is all WHOOSH! SWAY! GO THAT WAY!. I keep on getting distracted and I keep looking at the ceiling and it looks like it's moving. And oh golly. It looks like there's a spider on my wall. Please excuse me to investigate and scream if my theory is correct. ... I was wrong. It was a remnant of Edweird's face.

In other news, my Snuggie is now clean. Yes, I have a WTF Blanket™. It's all pretty and zebra print. But I totally wish it were rainbow-y'd. It'd be much more fab that way.

Now that it's three hours later and I've procrastinated until one of my bracelets broke, my dad is threatening me about getting off before one. I almost want to stay up and find out, but I'm still exhausted (why is it that it never clicks in my head how to spell that word?) from the past few days even though I totally passed out when I got home.

Did I mention that I just made a forumspring? I've been peer-pressured into it. It's like a glorified version of Honesty Box (facebook thing) on its own website. I guess today's post will be shorter than normal since I'm short on time since my father is a butt.

Good night everyone, and may the Shwartz be with you.