It's cold, I don't have to tell you that.  We know it in our bones. 

It's been in the teens and lower for a while now, it's going to stay that way, and there's snow on the roads and in our yards.  Husbando loves it, but I hate it.

Everyday I warm up my car, I put on a heavy coat, and try not to step in cold water puddles.  Sometimes there's a scarf involved.  But every morning, I mentally curse the cold and wish for spring.  But you know what the thing is with Missouri.  We're gonna get like, two weeks of spring tops.  Then it's gonna be straight into summer, and that's gonna suck.

So I decided to be thankful for the cold, because at least that means I'm not sweating as soon as I exit my house.  I hate sweating... so much.  Everything about it annoys me.  It means that I'm too hot, and it means I probably smell bad (I'm sensitive about the way I smell).  Or, it means that I'm doing too much or doing some kind of physical activity, and I'm not fans of those activities either.  Actually doing work?  That sucks.

From now on, I'll appreciate the cold a little bit.  For as much as I don't like cold feet and hands and all that, I'd rather have cold than hot.  I can put on a sweater.  I can put on fuzzy socks.  And it's so much easier to warm up than it is to cool down.  There are so many fans in my house, you guys.  So many.

Well.  This wasn't the most poignant post ever in my life, but it is what it is.

Coldly yours,


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