The Great Thermostat Wars of ’10 continue. Both sides now have to contend with Oregon deciding to have two opposite seasons in one day. In the morning, we arrive at an office chilled to an uncomfortable 65 degrees. As I unforward the phones, I secretly set the thermostat to a much more pleasant 75, but the Forces of Menopause* can be expected to stage their assault between forty-five minutes to an hour later. Down goes the temperature, back to around 67. The office cools…and chills. When I can no longer feel my toes, I turn the temperature back up to 70, assuming that will prompt a ceasefire.
But sometimes Jake will arrive and take both forces by surprise by counteracting whatever change was just made to the thermostat. This serves to confuse the entire office, plus it makes my boss suspect that I’m double-crossing her.
And then noon arrives and everyone’s strategies get completely screwed up. The sun has been out, people have been contributing their body heat to the building, and all of a sudden it’s 77 degrees and stuffy inside. My boss will come out and negotiate for a cooler temperature; Jake will emerge later and insist he’s being frozen out because his chair is right by the vent. Usually at this point I surrender control of the thermostat and get back to whatever I was doing, letting them duke it out.