November 7

I am accutely aware that some people are reading this blog from places that really are "freezing" and "below freezing" and just plain "effing cold".  Yes, I know that San Diego doesn't get "that" cold.  BUT San Diego does get cold.  Going even further, my room is an ice box.

Last night, I had one of those nights where I went to sleep with flannel PJ pants and a hooded sweatshirt on and was still kicking my legs to create some heat between my sheets and under my fluffy down comforter.  At some point in the night I was down to just my under-roos and a tank top.  Needless to say, I apparently got hot and stripped in my sleep.  I am not sure how long I lasted before I woke up at 3:30 shivering again, only to put back on all of those layers; the layers didn't last terribly long this time around either.

Alas, it is clearly time to bust out the flannel sheets and Grandma and Grandpa's afghan to warm up my sleeps.

Today, I am thankful for my flannel sheets.  I am thankful for the afghan that my Grandma gave me last year.  I am thankful that I have a comfortable bed, a roof over my head, and a place to call home and stay warm (even when it is "cold") every night.