It’s 32 degrees right now, and we have a frost advisory. A FROST ADVISORY!
It’s May 6th. For fuck’s sake. And, yes, I said this yesterday as well, but it was 40 ‘feels like’ 39 at the time. Now it’s 32. This is right in my wheelhouse, but as I’ve mentioned before, my body is really unhappy with the bouncing up and down that’s been happening over the past few weeuks. The average (mean) for May is 59. We have slid around that temp, but mostly been below it so far. We’ve had a few days in the seventies, including one that was high seventies.
I am getting whiplash from the weather. If it stayed in the 30s or 40s for several weeks, then I’m fine. If it’s in the 50s, I can deal. Low 60s and we’re starting to get in my uncomfortable zone. Anything over 70 is not what I want at all. If it creeps over 80, I’m done.
I remember I used to visit Ian when he lived in Raleigh. It would get well over a hundred with so much humidity in the summer. I would be dripping wet and hot, even after taking a shower. It made me realize how much I hated the heat. I mean, I have always hated the heat, but this just underscored how ill-suited for it I was. I wilt and become listless, and I do not want to move at all.
When K lived here, we would go out once a month or so. In the winter, I would be perky (well, as perky as I get–which isn’t that perky) and happy because I love the cold. She would grumble and shiver, even if we were being heated, and she would say, “Doesn’t the cold make your spine scrunch up?” I said, “No! It makes me feel alive!” I may have laughed maniacally at the end, too, but that’s just because I’m so happy in the cold.
On the other hand, when we went out in the summer, I was hot and miserable. I hated it so much when we were outside. Once, we were at a beach when it was in the nineties, and I just wanted to dive in the water and never get out. That would have taken too much energy, though. More to the point, I did not want to be outside at all. The heat makes me listless, miserable, and if I can’t get out of it, angry.
I’m really frustrated with myself right now. Two reasons. One is my sleep. I’ve always struggled with it*, and I’m trying really hard to make my bedtime reasonable. By reasonable, I mean 3 a.m. That’s reasonable to me.
Side note: One thing I’ve talked about with my friends is how there are flaws you need to fix and flaws that you can accept. My sleep is one that I dearly want to fix, but I am having such a hard time with it. An example of a flaw that I do not care to fix–working to the end of a deadline. I’ve accepted it and made it work for me. As long as I make the deadline, that’s all that matters.