It’s 33 Degrees in Florida This Morning and the Struggle Is Real

It’s January in Florida and do you know what that means? It means the temperature has been hovering near freezing and Floridians in our part of the state are whining about the cold temperatures.

Oh, the suffering we Starbucks-sucking, flip-flop wearing transplanted mid-Westerners must suffer during the three weeks of winter in the sunshine state! 

Thank goodness for the weather people warning us to bundle up, meaning we must wear a heavy sweatshirt for a few weeks and possibly even a winter coat for a few days. But no matter where you live and no matter how cold it is outside, there’s always that one f*cker walking around wearing shorts. Seriously, why? Besides not having to wear a bra while running errands, one of the best things about winter is not to shave your legs until spring.

Yes, there is a silver lining in everything, even when you’re heading out to the grocery store dressed in so many layers you resemble a large sleeping bag that’s come partially to life or wake up in the middle of the night to pee and look at the toilet seat with disdain thinking, “D*amn it’s going to be cold to sit on you!”

Cold temperatures aside, I’m suffering through a case of the Winter/January Blues. Are you familiar with that blah feeling? It’s caused by the end of Christmas, guilt over not starting New Year’s resolutions as promised, and a closet full of clothes that are three sizes too small coupled with short, dark, cold days and etfuckingcetera.

I’ve been walking around feeling more grouchy and listless than usual. It goes something like this: 

Me in early November: Winter Blues don’t happen! Bring on the holidays! I’m so happy and gay!

Me in January: The sun is dead, and God has abandoned us. (Cue loud sighing and sobbing into a pile of to-tight sweaters.)

And this:

Me to Bill when he makes note of the early darkness for the 1949586867 time: Your task for the next three months is not to mention repeatedly how dark it is at 5 pm because you told me yesterday, and the day before that, and every day for the last two weeks and I already f*cking know!!

Speaking of Bill, last night, when we went to bed at like 4 pm (because it was that dark), it wasn’t terribly cold in our house, so neither of us thought to turn the thermostat up. Well, let me tell you, when we woke this morning, our home was frosty enough to hang meat, and watching the news only slightly made my blood boil.

You know what I mean? You know what I mean. What I mean is that it’s cold here in Jacksonville, and I’m not good at tolerating sub-freezing temperatures and reluctantly lacing up my shoes so I can take a morning walk with my self-pitying tears instantly forming a sheet of ice on my face. 

Well, am I a sparkling conversationalist today, or what? Good lord, the bitching. Quick subject change: I joined a group of women who are learning to crochet, and I’m quite excited we will be getting together in the near future to learn how to make afghans and shit! Crocheting isn’t just for grandmas. All the cool girls are doing it now!