We used to be the stereotypical couple arguing over the thermostat, Joel* and I. I was always cold, he was always too hot. I'd huddle under a pile of blankets while we watched TV, he'd fan himself with the remote and eat a giant bowl of ice cream. I'd put my frozen feet on his legs in bed to try to get warm, he'd scream in terror at being awakened in such a fashion. You get the idea.
Then Joel went on a diet and something went terribly wrong (in addition to the fact that I gained weight while he lost). He's lost about 75 pounds over the past year and a half and he's still working on losing 10-20 pounds more. He's also lost his ability to regulate his body temperature, it seems. He's always cold!
Yesterday, the thermostat was set to 72 degrees. I was perfectly comfortable. And Joel was huddled on the couch, looking like this: