Warm room lethargy

For the second year in a row, I have a roommate whose preferred ambient temperature is a tropical 82 degrees Fahrenheit. And I must be cold-blooded because when exposed to such heat, I do what a lizard would do. I stretch out on my sunny bed and fall asleep. As I sleep, all the plans and possibilities I have swirling around in my head heat up, swirl faster and boil. I should make bread, I should darn my clothes, I should eat something, or at least reach for that glass of water that's so . . . far . . . away (on my nightstand.) But these ideas stay capped by an 82 degree Fahrenheit blanket of dry warmth.

I'm on the floor in my room now. The floor is colder. But my head is still sticking out at bed-level, and it is getting sleepy again and losing track of all those interesting things I had meant to say. Let's try scooting down . . . Mmm that's better. Remarkably so. I wonder if it's a good idea to let everyone know my weakness in a blog like this?

I feel I should make a disclaimer, by the way. My roommate's penchant for heat does not in any way reflect on her coolness. She is quite cool.