bewitched, bothered, and bewildered

The first time I came about the word cozy, it simply meant cozy and that was good. It stayed so for a long time: until I heard the first mention of a tea cosy (incidentally, I find that to be a very silly thing). And then Amy wrote swimming cosy and that really confused things: it was about a costume that had covering in common with the tea cosy, but no coziness, I gathered. So today I asked old Merriam what the heck this cosy/ cozy affair was, and that made matters worse, much worse. Just look:

Cozy, adjective
1.a. enjoying or affording warmth and ease: snug [a cozy lakeside cabin]
1.b. marked by or providing contentment or comfort [won by a cozy margin]
2.a. marked by the intimacy of the family or a close group
2.b. marked by or suggesting close association or connivance [a cozy agreement]
3. marked by a discreet and cautious attitude or procedure

Cozy, noun:
1. a padded covering especially for a teapot to keep the contents hot (aha!)
2. a light detective story that usually features a well-educated protagonist and little explicit violence (wtf?)

Cozy, adverb
1. in a cautious manner [play it cozy and wait for the other team to make a mistake — Bobby Dodd]

I don't know whether I like cozy anymore now that it means just about anything. Like, a jobbie. Though now that I see what jobbie can mean next to what it meant until a few seconds ago, I'd like to reconsider this whole English language thing.