Now is the winter of our yadda, yadda, yadda

I don't like winter, and here's why:

It's cold.

I don't like winter clothes.  Long sleeves annoy me.  Most sweaters make me itchy and turtlenecks make me feel like I'm choking, besides the fact that I don't have a neck. I have a wattle, and they don't make turtlewattles, although they should, because it's a delightful word. 

It's cold.

As I Piscean, I suffer from Fucked Up Feet Syndrome, which means there are only about 3 pairs of shoes in the universe that don't hurt my feet and none of those shoes are, in any way, attractive.  However, in the summer I can wear sandals, which allow my tootsies to wave freely in the open air and not be imprisoned in the cramped darkness of Closed Toes.  This is less painful and marginally more attractive.  In the winter I do not have this option, because....

It's cold.

That S.A.D. thing that everyone in the country has, except maybe Stevie Wonder.  Are blind people supposed to be that happy all the time?  I saw him in concert once, he was amazing.  Each Beat of My Heart is one of my favorite songs.   But I digress,  probably because...

It's cold.

No matter how many layers of uncomfortable, itchy turtlewattles I may be wearing, I never seem to get warm until it gets above seventy degrees outside.  The closest I get to being warm in winter is when I'm in my incredibly unattractive flannel jammies, tucked in my bed with tons of covers and the space heater six inches away.  This is one of the many explanations for why I sleep alone. (The other reasons are depressing and it's winter and we already have S.A.D., so I won't go into them.  You're welcome.)  Then, just as I'm about to drift off to sleep, I get a hot flash.  Meh.  So I tear off all my clothes, shut off the space heater, and sweat like a mofo for five minutes, after which I freeze and reverse the process.   This routine annoys my cats.  I ain't crazy about it myself.

Have I mentioned winter is cold?

Okay, this has been an abnormally cranky post, (even for me) but it's March Eve and it's Birmingham, AL and that equation should not have a solution set consisting of freezing temperatures with a forecast of snow on Saturday, but it does and my feet hurt, and my turtlewattle itches and I sleep alone and. . .

It's cold.