I don’t like cold. I really don’t. Don’t get me wrong. I understand the charms of being snuggly warm somewhere as the wind whistles past the windows. I know about nestling under layers of blankets as you fall asleep. Hot drinks in large, heat-retending mugs have a friend in me. Wool sweaters and knit tights – I’m all about that. I even have a winter hat I actually like this year. Unfortunately, I am still cold.

Cold seeps into your bones and takes away your energy. Even after you get warm again, there’s still some cold part of you that has yet to thaw. Cold lets you know every single time the hem of your shirt rides up, because the small of your back suddenly gets – guess what – cold. Cold scoffs at the wool sweaters and the corduroy pants. Cold sneers at cashmere gloves, and turns away to hide a mocking smile at flannel lined pajamas and thick house slippers. Cold cannot be defeated so easily, though he thinks it’s cute for you to try.

It’s barely the beginning of December, and already I’m tired of cold.

This is going to be a long winter.

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