Frigid is Not a Nice Adjective

I'm so cold I feel like I might actually die.

And, say what you want, I don't think that's an overly dramatic statement.

I am staying in a beautiful brownstone on 9th st. in Manhattan.  It sounds like a dream.  And mostly it is.  But along with the charm of an old building comes the horrid insulation (and cockroaches).

And I stay in a room at the back of the house that has a whole wall of windows and a door.

It literally feels like I'm camping.  

And I hate camping.

I enjoy the part of camping where you sit around the camp fire and roast mallows and tell stories and someone always accidentally melts their shoes.  But after that, I want to go home and sleep in my bed.  Because I inevitably wake up at dawn, freezing cold and damp with a horrible back ache.  Not worth it.

This is like camping in that I'm really cold.  It's better though because I have a bed.  

My plan is simple:  I will stay in bed under my covers where I stay perfectly warm.

Earlier I spent half an hour in the fetal position under the covers, staring at my nightstand.  I couldn't have been happier.  I was confident in my plan.

So after watching Friday Night Lights (awesome), I said good night and headed back to my room.  I immediately got under the covers and cuddled with my pajamas for a while so that they would warm up before I put them on.  (This was surprisingly effective and I congratulated myself for a while for thinking of it.)

But then I faced a conundrum.  I really wanted to blog in order to complain sufficiently about being cold, but that required me to take my hands out from under the covers.

I cursed myself for not asking for a Snuggie for Christmas, even if they do make you and your entire Snuggie-clad family look like complete tools.

I tried to type with gloves on.  I found it impossible.

I finally just sucked it up and decided the risk of a couple of digits was worth the satisfaction of a well-typed blog.  That's what you all mean to me.  You're welcome.

I just keep thinking longingly of my remote-controlled space heater in storage in the Canyon.  We'll be reunited soon.  I can't wait.

I will leave you with a picture of what I will look like for the entire weekend:

Thank you Lord for iPods, blogs and books.  The perfect way to spend the coldest night of the year.

Song of the day: Best for Last by Adele