In the wintertime, more than any other time, I am lizard like. I seek out and soak up any and all heat that I can. I turn the water hotter and hotter. In the summer I can not conceive of such heat in my bath. In the winter I watch my skin turn red as the liquid heat splashes against it. Were it not for my obsession with knitting and reading I'd probably live in the tub, the warm embrace of water surrounding me.
Pulling warm clothes from the dryer to slip into is a delicious treat. I have even once managed warm sheets on the bed and quickly jumping between them before they cooled too much. I delight in warm soups and hot drinks. The river of warmth slides through me and makes me smile as I feel like I've swallowed a small sun.
All this love of heat and yet I am miserly with the heat in the apartment. Thus, it was not until after that wonderfully hot bath and shower that I realized the heat was not working in the apartment ... again.