Cold is relative

I’m cold today. Like, I’m a fucking meat Popsicle.  Which is stupid, because it’s like, 57F outside, with a “real-feel” of 55F. Which isn’t really that cold, especially when one considers that there are parts of North America that can get as cold as -40 (which is -40 whether you’re talking F or C) and that is fucking cold.

The night Mollie and I were home alone and the power went out with freezing temperatures was much colder than this, and yet I don’t recall feeling this cold that night. Perhaps being snuggled in with my warm furry little doggie under all the blankets and bathrobes kept me from feeling very cold even though there was no source of heat and it was below freezing.

I don’t know. I just know I’m a fucking meat Popsicle today and it fucking sucks. I thought I was dressed appropriately for the forecast for today, but apparently I thought wrong. So I’ve changed clothes. I don’t think the clothes I put on are any warmer than the ones I had on earlier…maybe it’s the addition of socks and boots that has made the difference.

I have to wonder how much our exceptional summers have warped my sense of hot and cold. I guess when most of your summer days are in excess of 100F, then 57 feels fucking cold.

It makes me sad when I think that we humans have done this to ourselves, and the extremes are only going to get more extreme. This calendar year, Texas has gone from exceptional drought to epic flooding back to drought back to flooding. That’s pretty extreme, and it’s only a prelude of what’s to come.

I’m going to go grab my little doggie and some blankets and try to find some mindless television to distract me from feeling like a meat fucking Popsicle.

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