Zero intolerance

I’m starting to think that I have a very high tolerance for things. I take ridicule and mockery without saying a word; I let little kids beat on me mercilessly; I stand still without making a sound when someone carelessly grabs my severely sunburnt arm; I lend people my jacket on cold days without thinking twice, then shiver and freeze but insist that they keep it. Furthermore, the other day I was in my photo studio taking pictures, and with the combination of quartz-halogen lights and no ventilation, it gets quite hot in there. But just like every other time, I quietly and steadily did my work in the lonely fiery furnace without saying a word. After a couple hours, someone came by to check up on me. As soon as he stepped in the room, he gasped and said, “Oh man is it hot in here. I can’t stand it.”

Is it just me, or is the temperature just right in here?