Why do I feel guilty touching the thermostat?

It may be difficult to comprehend as you read this post in July, but I'm writing it in late May whilst sitting in my house and freezing.

The outside temperature is something like 57 degrees. Inside it's 66. I'm wearing a long-sleeve shirt and jeans, but I'm still awfully cold. My hands and feet are numb, and I'm pretty certain my nose will soon turn black and fall off and I won't even notice.

One potential solution to this problem, I realize, is to turn up the heat. But that would entail messing with the thermostat, and I never do that.

Why? At least two reasons:

(1) Turning on the heat means the gas bill will go up, AND WE MUST NEVER INCREASE THE GAS BILL.

(2) Terry has a system for determining what the temperature should be in the house, and as near as I can tell, that system is called the Whatever-Temperature-Will-Feel-Uncomfortable-to-Scott System.

Since it is July and all, I should mention this also extends to when we turn on the air conditioning.

As she is the person who handles our finances, I understand that Terry is sensitive to the way in which operating our home heating and cooling system will impact us monetarily. But I can't tell you the number of times the rest of us have been dripping with sweat and my wife has advised us to just open a window. "Please," we beg, "can we turn on the air conditioning? Even for just an hour or two?" But this will only happen when Mrs. Heat Miser decides it's time, which may be never.

The result is that when I do venture over to the thermostat in the hope of making it more bearable in our house, I do so only when Terry isn't home, and I do it with a sense of guilt I can't shake. Yes, technically I earn the money that heats and cools the house, but I have no more control over how the system actually works than any of our pets do.

So you know what? I'm going to go turn the heat on. It's my house and I'll turn the heat on when I darn well please. Hold on a second...

<I'M WALKING OVER TO ADJUST THE THERMOSTAT. PLEASE AMUSE YOURSELF FOR A FEW SECONDS UNTIL I GET BACK.>

There. In 15 minutes or so, it's going to be nice and toasty in here and I'll be happy. I am master of my domain.

The fact that Terry isn't home (this is true) has nothing to do with it. Nor does the fact that I'll almost surely turn the thermostat back down to where it was the minute I hear her car pull into the driveway (also true).