Male here.
I'm another one who never wore coats in winter. I usually wore secondhand suits that I'd get tailored so that I could only just squeeze into them thereby showing off my 'Heroin Chic' physique (Trans: a 7 stone apology with pipe cleaner legs) . A coat would only have detracted from my skinnyness. I can remember walking the four miles or so home after the nightclub in the middle of winter and losing all feeling in my lower legs and feet from the cold.
I nearly burned down the house, twice, while cooking a mini pizza under the grill. The first time because I nodded off. The second time because I was not only cooking a pizza, I was also attempting some DIY dentistry by attacking a bad tooth with a fork and a pair of pliers. I ended up filling the kitchen with greasy smoke and breaking off the whole side of my upper molar, which had to be removed.
Quite regularly made use of the 'Joyrider Taxi' service whereby stolen cars would use the long straight road near our house for their kicks. I'd get a lift out from the city centre to the start of it, about five minutes walk from home while they got on with ragging the cars and trying to get the police to chase them. I figured, if I didn't actually ask them if they were driving a stolen car, it sort of made it okay, sort of.
I used to stay out all night and only arrive home about an hour or so before the rest of the house got up so I'd snatch an hour or two of sleep before having to get up and go about my day. If I could, I'd call round to a mate's house as his parents would be at work and catch up on my sleep on their couch. After doing this for a couple of years, I had a complete physical breakdown and spent my 20th birthday in intensive care. The toxicology report ran to three pages.
Thing is, I was considered the "Sensible" one in my circle of friends.