*sniff* *sniff*

As I lean over to grab a tissue, I note with interest that I must have a cold. I look up from my laptop and focus on the temperature of the air around me. Yes, now that I stop and think about it, it is a little cold in here.

But the heating is on, I muse, so how can it possibly be cold? Oh yes... now I remember, the vent in this room is closed. Not closed by me, oh no, because (a) I can't reach the ceiling and, (b) being from a rather sunnier part of the world, I am quite content with the room temperature being at a level that others might possibly consider "too warm." (And apparently they did consider it to be "too warm" on one particular occasion, although the precise details of which, I have since forgotten.)

I've steadfastly been refusing to reopen the vent, as I was "not the one who closed it" and therefore do not see it as a task which I should necessarily be required to undertake. And yet, in the absence of the vent-closer, and not wanting to succumb further to a cold, I stomped off to get a chair in order to reopen the vent my-bloody-self.

Petty? Yup, and more than just a little...