I like schedules. Annually, I turn on my apartment’s sole gas heat in November. I turn off the heat in April. Pleading poverty this year, I waited well into November to clean the dust out of the metal register. I slept last night, wearing a ski hat, under two duvets in an unheated apartment. The thermostat read 59 degrees at 9am. I can’t function well if I’m cold. I turned on the heat today with a pleasant whoosh of gas. Winter has begun.