Cold sucks. I don’t care what people say about “Well when you’re cold you can always put more clothes on but when you’re hot you can’t take anymore off” because that’s a bunch of bullshit. I never get so hot that I feel horrible rotten sick whatever. I don’t get too hot; it’s just not possible. At least, not here in Hoosier-land with its 90 degree whether and 100% humidity. I might get somewhat uncomfortable at times due to the humidity, but even when it’s at its hottest out there, I’ll still sleep with a sheet or blanket because otherwise I’d get cold. Now, for someone who can get cold in the bleak heat of an Indiana summer, which is worse: hot or cold?

Yeah, no brainer there. And this whole “You can always put more on” gets to a point where it’s just no longer functional and can’t help anymore. A long-sleeved T-shirt, a button-down long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, and a hooded-sweatshirt goes on the torso; two pairs of socks and shoes on the feet; pjs with jeans over them on the legs; gloves with the tips cut out so I can at least vaguely type and use a mouse, and sometimes a robe over all that and a blanket over that. Can we spell “bulk” or “limited range of movement” or “constant readjustment of a hundred layers of material”? Also, I don’t know how many of you have seen my computer chair, but it’s not a common one with a back, arms, and seat and all that–it’s an ergo which means I sit up at an angle so blankets on the lap just slide off and there’s no curling my feet up under me (which was part of the point of getting an ergo chair ’cause sitting funny wrecks my knees). Plus, the parts of me which need the most heat are the least reasonable to completely cover up like my hands. How can I type up a thesis if I can’t use my hands? I don’t have (nor want) one of those voice recognition programs which types as I speak. And if there’s one thing that makes the rest of me cold, it’s cold hands or feet.

So I fucking goddamned just plain hate the cold. I hate it when it’s cold outside and I’m stuck wearing a bulky-as-fuck coat which makes getting the backpack on and off a chore, not to mention the two totes full of books either. I hate scraping frost off the mom-mobile. I hate having to plan my wardrobe based on how freezing the office will be because I really just want to be comfortable at a minimum of clothing with, well, public decency considered, I suppose. <Sigh> If only it were summer. But then again there’s the pain of the air conditioner and people’s general obsessions with turning the inside of buildings into the hell which winter was. @#$%^&*?! With temperatures, I just can’t win; and therefore I feel justified in bitching about how much I hate the cold. If everyone can whine about the heat, I can whine about the cold. If other people can bitch that it’s too warm in here, I can bitch that I’m freezing. Bitch bitch bitch bitch. I’m human and it’s human to complain, though sometimes I wonder if I’m really cold-blooded and am the temperature of the room rather than generating my own heat ’cause it sure don’t feel like I’m generating much heat at all. Pfft. I hate cold. There, that’s my rant. Now to take some more notes for the thesis since I didn’t feel like digging Buster out from this weekend and there’s still an article or two I need to finish. Shatner’s “Has Been” album will keep me company in place of Buster. I think I need to go make some tea; that’ll warm me up for about ten minutes. Stupid cold.

Thesis counter: 31/43       Insult of the Day: salaud (men only) ‘bastard’