Two Tuesdays ago, my coworkers and I decided that there was a real spring-like quality to the day. The air was crisp and warmer, with faint botanical aromas that foretold the blooms to come. I did what I always do when there’s a hint of more mild weather: I took the down comforter off the bed and replaced it with a meager quilt. The next night, I was shivering. I didn’t dare turn up the heat after having been shocked at how our heating bill had skyrocketed this year. Instead, I retrieved the big, bulky comforter and cowered underneath.

This happens every time the seasons are about to change. I get prematurely excited by the faint whiff of balmier…