Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: weather

Walking in a winter wonderland

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I’ve been fascinated with the weather in the last week or so (well, all “spring” really, and spring is in quotes because it’s been anything but)  because it’s as if winter is just refusing to leave. We Minnesotans are used to variant weather in March and April, but things are usually pretty settled by May. Here is what I wrote about it (amongst other things) in yesterday’s post.

I personally would not mind if we did not hit eighties or nineties at all during the spring/summer, but I know that would make most other people sad. Since I don’t go outside much, I should just suck it up and wish for eighties and nineties for other people. I have air con, too, which I try not to use. I am conscious that it’s bad for the environment, and while I prefer the cold to the heat, I’m fine up to 76*, but anything over that is unbearable.

Sometimes, I wish I had known shit about me when I was much younger. Such as the fact that I’m very sensitive to any external stimuli. Not just heat, which is my nemesis, but other things such as scents, light, and sounds. Not just loud sounds, but different kinds of sounds. For instance, I hate ASMR. So much. It’s like nails on a chalkboard for me. Even if it’s done by people I adore, I have to grit myy teeth to get through it. Basically, any kind of whispering is irritating to me.

Most fabrics bother me, too. My life is a series of irritating things–physically, I mean. Most of them are on the level of what irritates me in the literal sense, but there are some that just irritate me in colloquial sense, too.

My sleep is such a hot mess right now. I think it’s the worst it’s ever been. No wait. That’s not true. That’s recency bias. It was much worse when I was in college. At least I’m getting sleep now–six to eight hours. Back then, I got four if I was lucky.

I know what I have to do; I just really, really, really rebel against doing it. It really is me fighting my own brain, which is not easy to do. More than that, it’s nearly impossible. Sometimes, it’s physically uncomfortable when I do something that my brain doesn’t want me to do. That’s not an excuse, obviously. I need to do what I need to do, and I need to find a way to make it tolerable.

One thing I’ve decided to do is return to what I used to do that worked for me. There are many things that don’t, but one thing that did was making sure I did what I needed to do before allowing myself to chill out. I mean, this is probably what most people do on the regular, but it’s really hard for me to keep my brain on track.

I don’t want to use it as an excuse, but I really feel this to be true after my medical crisis. Before that, I had discipline to do what I needed to do before relaxing. Since my medical crisis, it’s really hard to keep my focus on one thing. The only exception is when I’m practicing my weapons. Even that, though, is done one form at a time (so a few minutes per form). I will say that when I’m teaching myself a new form, I can focus for up to a half hour or however long it takes me to teach myself the new posture.

Other than that, though, I have to really put my mind to something to focus for more than an hour.

Let me be clear that I’ve always had difficulty focusing unless I was hyperfocusing on something. It’s just that it’s gotten even harder now, and I feel likke it’s not completely my fault. Meaning, it’s not something that I can just fix by pure willpower.

It’s diffiuclt for me to say, but I’m feeling pretty hopeless right now. There is so much I want/need to do, but I have the hardest time doing any of it. My personal life is a mess as is the world around me. I don’t feel like anything I do matters. I came back to life four-and-a-half years ago, and what have I done with my bonus time? Not much of anything.

This is not me being hard on myself; this is me being real. I have wasted my bonus days just as I have wasted much of my previous life. I know that the only answer to that is to actually start doing something–but that’s so much easier said than done. With all that is broken in my brain, it’s hard to think of a way to fix even a portion of it.

It’s the same with the country around me. It’s all fucked. It’s so fucked. We are living in the worst time, and I don’t have the energy to deal with it, honestly. I’m feeling pretty low at this moment, and I’m not sure if I want to claw my way out.

I’ve always suffered from depression and anxiety, and it’s been up and down all my life. Both were bad up until my medical crisis, and then,  it was drastically different. My deperession decreased by 90% and my anxiety went down by 60%. These are rough estimates. I would say that my depression has ratcheted back up to be about 90% of what it originally was (so still a 10% decrease) and my anxiety is maybe 80% of what it was pre-medical crisis.

So overall, it’s not quite as bad as it once was, but it’s still bad. I think the worst part of it is that I just don’t have the energy/wherewithal to do anything about it. Each day passes as an imitation of the one before, and I feel helpless to do anything to make it better. I know that one thing that may help is seeing a therapist, but it’s cruelly ironic that the thing that may help the most is often somethnig that seems so far out of reach.

I really am at my wit’s end. I don’t know what to do.

*Fine, of course, is relative. I mean fine as long as I don’t have to move much. Bearable is the better word.  And as long as I’m shielded from the elements.

Winter is coming?

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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.


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I can’t believe it’s May

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Right now, it’s 40 degrees, but it ‘feels like’ 39. On May 5th. We are nearly halfway through the year, and we’re still having frost warnings. As anyone who knows anything about me knows, I love cold weather–the colder the better. The problem is that I do not love cold mixed with hot. Going from one to the other day to day is really fucking with my inner something or the other. Not sure what, but it’s really hard on my body. Even if it’s a steady 62 degrees in the house, my body is rebelling against the wild temperature swings. I mean, it was over seventy a few days ago, and now we’re almost below forty.

I switched the thermometer to AC once or twice in the past few weeks, but then I had to put it back to the heater for the rest of the time. It’s currently on heater and I’m just leaving it there because I don’t actually turn on the AC until it’s at least 75. It used to be even higher, but I’m living a little in my old age. Actually, I only keep it that low during my Taiji and Bagua routine and then bump it back up to 76.

I would not be unhappy if we did not go over eighty for the whole summer. not only do I hate hot weather, but I hate the bugs that the hot weather brings. Ants, flies, mosquitoes, wasps, and all the other jerks that I do not want to encounter. I rarely go outside for long stretches of time because all I see are enemies. One of the few times I had an outside private lesson with my teacher two years ago in the summer, I got bitten by a wasp. It got infected, and I had to go to the doctor.

Mosquitoes love me, too. I remember playing tennis with my father when I was younger. The mosquitoes would devour me while they left him strictly alone. It didn’t matter how much I drenched myself in mosquito repellant–I would be covered with bites by the time I got home.

When I was in my early twenties, I spent two months in Taiwan–in their summer. One time, the nurse at the house (long story) gave me a ride on her motorbike. Not a motorcycle–more like a scooter. When we got home, my legs were covered with mosquito bites–and I mean covered. There were upwards of forty of them on each leg. I didn’t know for sure because I lost count. Then, an hour later, they swelled up really badly. Each was about the size of a tangerine. I probably should have gone to the doctor, but I didn’t. I was lucky that nothing bad happened (other than massive itching), but it really underscored  how much the outdoors hated me. It didn’t matter whether I like the outdoors or not because it fucking wants to kill me.


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Dog days of summer

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I hate summer.

Have a nice day!

No, that’s not the end of it–it’s just the start.

I hate summer, and I hate it even more every year.  That’s because of climate change, obviously. It’s getting hotter and more brutal every year.

My comfort zone is under 60F. 60-70 is ok, and anything over 70 makes me unhappy. Over 80 and I get very grumpy. If we hit 90, I am going to be actively angry. Especially if there is humidity as well. But, don’t tell me “at least it’s a dry heat” if we’re over 90 because it’s still fucking hot.

That’s what people would tell me about Las Vegas when it got up to 110 and above. “But it’s a dry heat.” That’s still nearly twice the temp that is comfortable for me. I do undrestand that at a certain point, it’s just fucking hot. It’s the same with when it gets really cold. -10 and -20 don’t feel that much different, really.

The thing is, 90 and 100 may not feel that different, but they both suck. This last week, we had ‘feels like’ 110 or so. It was hotter here than in Taiwan, which is astounding. I went to Menards the other day (first time driving on the freeway in almost a year! It was better than the last time, but I still have periphery issues), and it was like wading through a sludgy swamp.

I have a mini-rant on trying to replace my kitchen sink faucet handle, but I’ll save it for another day.

One reason I will not move somewhere else is because we have winter for six months of the year. That’s a slight exaggeration, but not much. We start having winter-like weather in late October, and it can go through April. Sometimes, even May. It’s usually March, but that’s still six months.

Today, it’s only 74 degrees. It’s still too hot for me, but it’s a relief after the 90+ we’ve had in the past few days. I’ve been blasting my air at 75 degrees. That feels luxurious to me, but apparently, I am in the minority. In a recent Ask A Manager thread, there were people who were adamant that setting the AC at 74 was torturous. (Too high). That really surprised me because even though I don’t like it that hot, I don’t like AC at that temp, either. Fake cold air all day long is not good.

But.

When I’m doing my Taiji routine in the morning, I have it at 75. When I go to bed at night, the same. Otherwise, I have it at 78. I think that’s reasonable.


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The heat has gone to my head

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I hate heat. I hate it so much. I live in Minnesota, which is known for its cold and snow, but our dirty little secret is that we have one or two really hot weeks every summer. Like over 100 degrees hot. Like, I am sitting in front of my fan with my AC going and I’m never leaving kind of hot. That was yesterday when it ‘felt like’ 107 degrees. It’s hard to comprehend that number, really.

I am not a hot person at all. More to the point, I’m not a moderate person, either. Heh. That could apply to many things about me, not just temperature. But for now, let’s stick to temp.

I’ve always hated heat since I was a little kid. My parents would tell me to put on a coat and I would always demure. My father thinks it’s amusing now to remind me how disobedient I was about not wearing a coat back then. He claimed I said it was because he didn’t ask me politely to do it, but just ordered me to do it.

That wasn’t it. I mean, that was probably part of it, but it wasn’t the main reason. The main reason I pushed back was because I wasn’t cold. Also, the way he would put it was, “Put on a coat because I feel cold.” Not because he thought I was cold, but because he was cold. He’s a raging narcissist so if he’s cold, of course, I am, too.

This was actually a stressor for me when my parents were home during my medical trauma. We went for a walk every morning, which I didn’t really want to do. Why? Because they had to criticize what I wore when we went. I don’t get cold. I have been dressing myself for decades.
I know how to layer and I know that I’ll get hot when I walk.

My mom started asking me every day if I was cold, or I must be cold, or wasn’t I cold? I calmly asked her not to do that one time when we were not on the walk. A reasonable request, I thought. She responded by saying she didn’t know how to talk to me at all. Which, what? I mean, I have told her since I was a kid that I don’t get cold. I. Do. Not. Get. Cold. This is a constant for me. I only get cold when I’m sick and even then, it’s very rare.

I don’t wear a coat except maybe twice a winter. I have all the accoutrements I need , including a sctarf/hood, gloves, and thremals. I’m not going to let myself freeze. I’ve lived in Minnesota all my life; I know how to deal with the winters. I do not need anyone telling me to put on gloves, a scarf, etc.


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I’m as cold as ice

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It’s 69 degrees (nice) and I’m a happy clam. It’s still outside my comfort zone, but after two weeks of over a hundred, I’ll take it. Being outside didn’t make me want to claw my own face off and I could actually feel a nice breeze. I fucking hate summer. We get a hundred day here and there, but nothing like the last two weeks. Even with air con, a fan blowing high, ice water, ice packs, and as little clothing as possible, it’s miserable. I can’t think in the heat–it feels as if my brain is frying. It makes me snappish, irritated, and unable to concentrate.

Even though the weather is much more tolerable, it’s still not fun for me. I’m fine with 20-50 degrees, but I prefer it under that, honestly. Down to zero is nice and then it’s a bit nippy when it gets to sub-zero temps. I talked to Kat Friday night and we reminisced about how back when we used to go out, we’d have such a different reaction to the weather. She’s a Florida gal and revels in the heat. When we went out in the summer, I would be whining and moaning about the heat, barely able to move while she would be flitting around, clearly in her element. In the winter, however, the shoe was on the other foot. She would be hunching over, shivering, demanding to know why my spine wasn’t scrunching up. I, on the other hand, would be in my element and loving it.

As I grow older, my ability to deal with cold gets less attuned*, but my ability to deal with heat hasn’t gotten better at all. If anything, it’s gotten worse. I would love to live in a place where the weather never rose about 50 degrees.

Let’s talk demos. Still trying them out and I really dig it. I can play a game for ten minutes or an hour and not have to commit to it. During the Steam Next Fest, there are so many demos! This is both a good thing and a bad thing. It’s good because I can try out any game that catches my eye without plunking down money for it. It’s bad because, well, there are so many bad games out there. That ain’t throwing shade at video games because that’s the case with, well, everything. 98% of pop culture is pure crap. That’s just the way it goes.


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You won’t like me when I’m angry

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We’re going through a heatwave here in MN. And by heatwave, I mean three days of ‘feels like’ 90+. I broke down yesterday and set the AC at 75 (I normally have it at 78, but I noticed I had perma-held it at 76 when I went to bump it down to 75). That’s surprisingly high for Americans if anecdote is data, which it isn’t, but it might as well be. Yes, I hate heat, but I also am trying to be environmentally conscious, and I hate wasting money. But, yesterday, I lost my shit when I woke up at 8:30 a.m. to my AC going off. It was already 88 degrees, and it was only going to get hotter. I decided to indulge myself for one full day before going back to my parsimonious ways.

I also have a fan blowing on my at high speed 24/7. That may seem like overkill to other people, but other people are not living in my very overheated skin.

Side note: I used to have hyperthyroidism, and now, I have hypothyroidism. You’re supposed to be never feel cold with the former and always feel cold with the latter. That explains why I never felt cold when I was younger, but not now.

The thermostat wars are very real. My BFF and her husband always argued about it. He’s more like me and would have happily never used the heater ever. She, on the other hand, is the one that when we used to go out in the winter, would pull her coat close to her, shiver, and demand to know why I wasn’t feeling the cold. She would say, “Isn’t your spine scrunching up?” I would retort that it made me feel alive, and we would laugh. It was all in good fun, just as me saying I would kill the sun with the heat of a thousand, well, suns, and she would get more energy from being outside.

She and her husband came to a compromise that neither of them were very happy about. Oh! This is a nonnegotiable for me in a relationship, by the way. Not that someone needs to love the cold the way I do, but that they understand that five minutes in the heat can deplete me to the point of needing to rest for several hours.

Back to my friend. She’s dealing with menopause now which makes her feel hot–which is a novice feeling for her. her husband is finding that he can tolerate the cold less as he gets older. They’ve switched to him wanting to bump the heater and her needing it colder, and she’s said to him, “Now you know how I’ve felt for twenty years!” while staring at him in the eyes and slowly turning the thermostat down. Ok, not the last bit because she’s a nice person, but it’s amusing how they’ve switched places.


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