the heat is on

Allow me to explore the literal and figurative meanings to this phrase, with apologies in advance to anyone who gets the song lyrics or Glenn Frey's voice stuck in their head. I am seriously sorry.

Literal
We actually turned on the heat yesterday—flipped the switch on the thermostat. I thought we could hold out until November. In fact, that had been my goal because once you turn on the heat and rooms are nice and toasty, there's no going back. So we've all sported heavy sweaters and padded around the house in slippers, and we've piled the blankets on our beds, but yesterday morning it was so freaking cold (59 degrees F) in our house that I was unwilling to suffer another minute. Fortunately we have the thermostat on a timer, and, beyond that, can lower the temperature from its winter setting. Needless to say, my bedroom was cozier when I went to bed last night and when I got out of bed this morning to hit the first snooze. Yes, there are some things that climate control cannot mend.

Figurative
Life turned on the heat yesterday when John became a casualty in a company-wide downsize. The fact that we have both lost our jobs is so enormously, unbelievably surreal, and I'm having a really hard time wrapping my brain around it. Sure, there are all kinds of big questions looming that I'm too emotionally fragile to articulate here. And, I know that there are jobs out there and that we will find them. But I have already been looking for a job for six months and, well, that's about all I'm willing to say at the moment. We haven't told the boys about John's job. They're so young and I don't want to worry them needlessly. Hopefully soon we can just tell them that Daddy is starting a new job and let it be.