Optional utilities?

So a fun thing I discovered about my apartment a few weeks after moving in is that there is no heat.  No central heat, no radiator, nothing.  This isn’t as big of a problem as it might seem since I live in southern California, but it definitely made me go “Huh.”  My last apartment had heat but I refused to use it since, based on my preconceived notions, it shouldn’t get cold enough here to require heat.  Or to even really qualify as cold. 

This, as it turns out, is not the case.  Last winter it got quite chilly but because I am stubborn and cheap I refused to use the heat.  Instead, on really cold days, I would turn on the oven and open the door because in my mind that is obviously the more frugal option and not so much cheating as it is ingenious.  So far, even though it’s been cold a few days it’s been mostly okay because the afternoon sun pours in the windows of the living and dining rooms which heats them up pretty nicely until I’m sweating in all my heavy clothes and cranky from being overheated.  The logical thing to do would be to remove a layer of clothes, but sometimes I get in a stubborn mood and refuse, thinking that if I will it hard enough the ambient temperature in my apartment will become perfect without me having to change clothes.  It rarely works out.

UPDATE:  Now that there have been several definitely chilly days without the benefit of afternoon sunshine due to malicious clouds, I can unequivocally state that my apartment gets way too freaking cold.  My toes were regularly turning blue until I remembered my winter weather trick from my old apartment in Kentucky.  That building was built in 1910, had crappy radiators and my room had two exterior walls, one of which with six feet of single pane windows.  It was normally about 50 degrees in there during the winter.  I’d have to take breaks every 10-15 minutes when doing homework because my writing hand would go numb.  Anyway, the solution I came up with for my feet was to put on a pair of socks and then over those put on these silky fuzzy socks I randomly got for Christmas one year.  Then I would tuck whatever blanket I was wrapped up in under my feet and voila!   No frostbite.  The only adjustment I made to that here is that for Christmas my sister and brother got me this little Afghan rug that fits perfectly under my desk, keeping my toes off the frigid floor.  I actually feel kind of bad about having it shoved under there since it’s a really nice rug, but it’s just temporary and no one wins if my toes fall off.

UPDATE TO THE UPDATE:  My little brother has come through in a major way.  Without even knowing about my dire situation, he gave me these insanely awesome fuzzy boots (made to be worn indoors) that are quite possibly the best thing I’ve ever put on my feet.  My feet SWEAT now despite the frigid temperatures and I hung the rug on the wall so I could quit feeling guilty every time I accidentally stepped on it.  All-around improvements.