How About Some Cheese With That Whine?

Winter has finally arrived, and intellectually, at least, I'm glad. This is what January is supposed to be like; the world feels a lot more right at this point. However, I'm being reminded again that I am no longer the carefree and joyous snow-bunny that I was twelve years and 25 pounds ago. Instead, my current response to frigid weather is to whimper and burrow deeper into multiple layers of wool and fleece and flannel.

I'm taking the T to work today, which just makes it worse. Even with my angel of a husband driving me to the T station and picking me up, I still have to stand around an unheated platform and walk back and forth through the wind-tunnel streets between the station and the office. Under most circumstances, the chance to read through my commute and wander through the city would make me quite happy.

Not today. Today I want to make a blanket-fort on the sofa, and spend the day curled up in a little cave of warmth with a pot of Yorkshire Gold tea, some toast, and a good book. This is made even more forceful by the fact that I know I have absolutely no appointments until 2pm.

I like the cold weather. I just want it outside, safely walled away from me.....