This writer not made for winter

I am the only one in the office right now, so I have the heat set on 72 degrees.

And I’m still cold.

As long as I can remember, I’ve been cold-natured. Except when I was pregnant, so that’s about 18 months out of my entire 55 years.

I do not like winter. I do not like dreary January days. It seems like every day from fall till spring, I’m just surviving the days, trying to stay warm while I go about my life. I’m cold when I go to bed; I’m cold when I wake up at night to go to the bathroom, and I often think about how thankful I am for indoor plumbing.

When I was a little girl, my Nano made me wear an “undershirt” beneath my clothes. As an adult, as soon as the temperature dips into the 60s, I’m wearing a tank top and silk long underwear under my clothes. My husband bought me two new pairs of black silk long underwear for Christmas. The other day, I got dressed and sat down to put on my shoes when I realized I didn’t have real pants on, just my long underwear. I might have gotten a bit chilly when I stepped outside.

My brother says my sister-in-law takes being cold-natured to a new level. She is known to wear sweaters year-round, while he is haired over like Chewbacca and hot-natured.

On her Christmas list one year was a sweatshirt that said, “I’m freaking cold.”

I don’t remember if anyone bought it for her, but last week, I looked online at the options. There are long-sleeved T-shirts, sweatshirts, hoodies and short-sleeved T-shirts (which seems counter intuitive), all with some variation of this phrase.

I found shirts and mugs with these phrases, too:

I’m cold; I am so freaking cold; I am really, really freaking cold; I’m so friggin’ cold; I’m so frickin’ cold; It is freaking freezing; I hate winter; I freakin’ hate winter; I wasn’t made for winter; I’m way too cold to function; Don’t winter well; Too cold to care; Brrrr; I am (with boxes to check): Cold, Freezing, Frozen; If it’s snowing, I’m not going; and Wake me up when winter is over.

I agree with all those. I have gloves; I have scarves. I layer three deep with fleece.

I realize cold is relative. Our handyman’s son-in-law is from Canada,

and when the family would Skype with the young man while he and our handyman’s daughter were dating and mention that it was cold in Arkansas, like in the 30s, the man would point out that it was 40 below there.

I would be a solid chunk of ice, encased like Han Solo in carbonite.

My husband told me last week he has a student at UCA whose husband bought her a heated coat. Before that, he bought her a heated vest, but she complained her arms got cold.

My eyes got big when he told me about it. I told him to get details, ASAP.

I have two words: Valentine’s Day. That’s a gift that could warm my heart and the rest of me.

Senior writer Tammy Keith can be reached at (501) 327-0370 or tkeith@arkansasonline.com.

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