ARTHA - The balance between 70 and 71.

It is cold in my apartment. Not just now, but all the time. Usually when people come over they say things like, "Did you pay your heating bill?" or "Do you have a thick Irish wool sweater I can borrow?"

You may think that we keep our heat low because we are trying to save money. Not true. The real reason is because the heating system is trying to kill us.

We leave our heating system at 70. Pretty much all the time. This is a great temperature because it allows you to walk around your apartment as you normally would in the winter (with socks, a cape and a tiny hat) and feel comfortable. However, every night around 10:30, something strange happens: 70 degrees begins to feel very cold. Too cold for just the cape. So I put on a sweater and turn the heating system up to 71 just before climbing into bed.

Then during the night, while my roommate and I are sleeping, a tribe of tiny heat demons climbs into the heating system and redirects all of the heat in the entire apartment directly into our bedrooms. This usually leads to waking up at 3am feeling like someone is trying to smother you to death with hot blankets. Each morning, my roommate and I look like we've suffered through a case of typhoid or one of those other Oregon Trail illnesses that ends in a spiked fever and death.

One night, tired of waking up destroyed, I left the heat at 70 and put on a heavier sweater. That night I slept peacefully and woke up refreshed. It seemed that as long as we kept the heat at 70, we wouldn't risk spontaneous combustion every night.

I don't really get what's motivating our heating system to try and destroy us. I'm not sure what the heat demons get out of forcing us to turn our heat up to 71. A big demon pizza? The evil satisfaction of making someone else suffer? Who knows.

Around 11:00 last night I could feel the room get colder - more than usual. That damn heating system taunting me to turn it up to 71. I caved. This morning when I woke up kicking my sheets off and screaming "Dear God get me out of this inferno!" I could swear I heard tiny laughing voices coming from the heating vent.