I may be a complainer of cold weather, but nothing has prepared me for this. For today.
It was, quite legitimately, freezing.
I’m talking strong icy wind, on-off rain, a struggle to write and hold the steering wheel. A hot shower where I’m cold the second I step out, frosty toes despite woolly socks, zipping and buttoning up my coat even though it looked a little weird. That’s right, the whole enchilada. (Is that a saying? Am I making that up? I guess don’t really mind; I love enchiladas.) It was dark when I woke up and it’ll be dark when I wake up tomorrow.
In some ways I don’t mind, but getting out of bed is really difficult. You can all laugh about it being a first-world problem, but you’ve all faced the struggle. You know what it’s like.
But something I love is watching people when they enter a warm room after being outside. It’s simultaneous relief, shock, and amazement. It’s fantastic. People look stunned for a moment, kind of bundled up and figuring out if they can stop tensing their shoulders.
And then there’s the walk back outside, where people brace themselves as a door opens and the cold air smacks them down, the knowledge that that cold air is just going to get worse as they delve completely into the elements, shutting out the warmth of indoors.
Ah, the mixed emotions toward winter.
I do love winter, it’s just that my favourite part is when I’m toasty.