You’re Hot, Then You’re Cold, You’re Yes, Then You’re No

I’m a woman with a genetic disorder where I don’t have a sense of the temperature around me. I can tell if I’m freezing to death or if something is too hot to the touch, but in a controlled building environment, I will never be uncomfortable as someone around me changes the temperature to something most find suitable. Until now.

In the bullpen office where I started a few months ago, I was fine all summer with the air system humming along and keeping the place consistent. Now, as autumn hits, the computer has a hard time reconciling the outside and inside temperature — so I’m told. I really can’t tell the difference between 20° or 30°.

The problem lies in that the temperature control is behind my desk, and I have to move if someone else wants to access it.

At first, a few weeks ago, I would get a visit every few hours from different coworkers throughout the day.

Coworker #1: “Aren’t you cold?”

I’ve learned that the answer is always, “Yes.”

Me: “Oh, yes, of course.”

I grab my trusty sweater and pull it on. It became clear early in my life that people feel uncomfortable around you if you’re not experiencing the same things they are. But that question wasn’t about me directly; it was a hint about turning up the heat, which she had to say in so many words.

A few hours later:

Coworker #2: “Aren’t you hot?”

Me: “Oh, yes. For sure.”

I pull my sweater off, but they look at me expectantly.

Me: “Do… you want the heat turned down?”

Coworker #2: “Only if you’re too hot.”

Me: “Umm… okay.”

I turn the heat down.

It’s taken weeks but now, when someone — anyone — starts looking in my direction, I leap up and look at the temperature. If it’s near 20°, I turn it up; if it’s near 25°, I turn it down.

I can’t wait for winter to arrive and the building’s temperature to even out, but jeez, if I only had a five-degree comfort zone, I’m pretty sure I’d hate my life.