Thursday, February 6, 2014


It's cold outside.  No, it's stinkin' cold outside.  I don't deal well with the cold.  I lived in North Dakota for 4 years and Eastern Washington for 7 years, yet I'm still not a fan of the cold.

I'm the first to wake up in my household.  We turn out heater off when we go to bed, our house being so old and drafty that it would run all night if we even turned it down, instead of turning it off.  So, the house is freezing when I wake up.  Quickly, I run to the thermostat before jumping back into bed to give it a few minutes to remove the arctic chill from my home.

When I walk outside, the crisp air reminds me to zip up my coat and dig my gloves out of my pockets, a chill working it's way into my core.  A few steps further and I regret not grabbing a scarf, my face suddenly devoid of all heat.  The cold seeps into me, making everything seem more difficult, less fun. 

I find myself rushing around when I'm outside so I can get into a heated shelter quickly, which makes me sad.  I am one to stop and enjoy the scenery.  I actually occasionally stop and smell the roses, or whatever other flower is nearby and making a nice fragrance.  When it's slightly cold, I enjoy looking at the mountain and admiring the snow-covered beauty of it.  When it's not frigid outside, I enjoy going for walks and appreciating the nippy air.  The stars have even caught my attention from time to time, getting me to stop and admire their celestial beauty.  This blood-chilling, frost-bite inducing cold just takes all of the fun out of winter.

When I arrive at work, regret that I work there fills me.  Heaven forbid my boss should turn the heat on above 65 degrees.  The small space heater at my feet does little to warm me.  I dress in layers.  Lots and lots of layers.  This can be challenging, though, because I have a certain dress code, and I don't think my boss would appreciate my long johns peeking out of my shirt top or my super warm, cozy sweats making an appearance.

The only thing that seems to help warm me at work is my daily cup of tea.  Wrapping my hands around the hot cup, I let the hot porcelain almost burn my skin before I bend my fingers so the cup can heat the back of my fingers, as well.  Being the wimp I am, I have to wait until the tea cools slightly so I don't burn my mouth when I drink it.  When I finally take a sip, I can feel the liquid warmth slide into my system, heating me from the inside, finally cutting the chill.

However, the cold does make me appreciate warmth all that much more.  When I finally arrive home, the first thing I do is turn up my thermostat.  It has been off all day, allowing the cold to leak into my drafty home, filling it with its almost painful bite.  As I hear the heater click on, I brave the cold and strip out of my work clothes so I can jump into my warmer clothes, shivers wracking my body as my skin is bared to the cold.  Luckily, I produce a lot of heat, so I quickly warm my layers and layers of super warm clothes.  By the time my fluffy socks are on, I am almost on my way to being warm.

Of course, one of my favorite ways to warm myself is in the shower.  I do have to make it past the seconds between when I strip and when the warm water hits me, but it's worth it.  Turning the water as hot as I can bear, I pivot to and fro, letting the steamy water warm all of my parts.  I make sure the shower curtain is sealed all around, trapping the warm mist in with me.  It is usually with great regret that I step out of the shower, which has warmed the bathroom to a tolerable temperature.

My newest way to warm up is my electric blanket.  I turn it on half an hour before I climb into bed so the warm can envelop my frozen toes.  I also have 8 blankets on top of my bed, the layers and weight trapping the heat in with me.  Finally warm, after hours and hours of fighting the cold, I drift off to a peaceful, relaxing slumber.

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