When I moved into a sprawling old Victorian in Louisville, Kentucky three years ago, my neighbors terrified me with their tales of four-digit utility bills. I'd swapped an under-900-square-foot bungalow for the three-story, 1890 behemoth, and was so scared of the bill the first year, I chose to freeze rather than turn up the thermostat. The bills were bad, but not horrendous, so the next year I made it a little more comfortable, daring to put it in the high 60s while we were home and awake. Then, last January, the stuff-of-legends bill hit: it was $661. I was shell-shocked.
from Apartment Therapy | Saving the world, one room at a time http://bit.ly/2G6VoFW
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