I don’t mind autumn but I HATE winter.
Like a PP, I have poor circulation (thanks, Dad) and my fingers are always freezing and my hands get cracked and bloody the colder it gets. It doesn’t matter how much and how often I use hand cream. It’s the worst at work where they have the heat on high, and while I appreciate it, it does a number on my hands.
At home my husband and I play with the thermostat – I’m bundled up in about six layers of sweatshirts and am turning the thermostat up, and he’s wearing two thin layers and is turning it down.
On the plus side, for the last week I’ve been having hot flashes at night (I’m 50), so if this continues, maybe it’ll mitigate the cold.
In my neck of the woods, we can get dumped on with a foot / foot and a half of snow at least a couple times a season (Minnesota has it worse, though, so I guess we’re lucky). I hate shoveling snow. I hate it with a passion. I hate opening my garage door and looking at a driveway of white stuff to shovel. Then the snow plows come along and they’re so worried about knocking over mailboxes that they give the curbs a wide berth, so my family and I spend two hours shoveling the STREET first before we even get to the damn driveway.
“Oh, but snow is so beautiful!” It’s beautiful for about ten hours and then people start driving again and the car exhaust blackens it. Then the sun comes out and turns everything to black slush.
And it’s still cold.
Take me now, Lord.
[rant over]