Friday morning last week was cold in New Hampshire: It was well below zero when I left the house at 7:30. Whatever; all of last week was like that. I was used to it. And my car starts pretty well in the cold for an old lady, though I do try to give her a few minutes when it's that cold to warm up.
Friday morning was also a little rushed. So was Friday afternoon. But I was having drinks with friends and trying to run into some other folks, so I decided to run home between work and drinks to change and look just a teensy bit cuter.
Good thing, too. When I got home a little after 5, I saw that I'd left the door open. Not unlocked, not ajar a little. All the way wide open. When I went inside, nothing was missing, although a few houseplants were the worse for wear. The indoor temperature was 51. I cannot imagine how much oil I burned to keep it that warm with the door open all day long.
Also, I am never allowed to live in the big city again.