What is the winter equivalent of the Dog Days of Summer? Frigging frigid February, I think! I hate the bitter burning sensation of extreme cold, making my fingers feel like wooden clothes-pins - unbendable, without blood flow, unfeeling. Even when I'm dressed up warmly and prepared for the frigidity outside, I don't like it, or endure it well. I've decided to take the high road, as a cat would do, and simply stay indoors.
But now I've been struggling to get out of bed in the mornings, not because I'm feeling low or depressed, but because - well, it's warm in my cocoon of blankets. I feel like a bunny curled up in its insulated den, and it doesn't seem to make sense to leave it. I love the feeling of being ensconced in a warm bubble, wallowing in warmth!
But, once I'm awake, there's nothing to do in bed. I keep thinking of how nice a cup of coffee would be, and of how pleasant it will feel to empty my bladder! Just when I think I've plucked up enough courage to get up and tackle these things outside the cushiony warmth, I find myself numbed into immobility for a further 10 minutes.
Sitting up to read or drink coffee in bed doesn't cut it. I'm one of those strange people who can't stand to have clothing twisted and tangled around their limbs when they sleep, making uncomfortable humps in the bedclothes, so I'd have nothing to keep my shoulders warm if I sat up - it's all or nothing for me! I'm either under the bedclothes, or getting dressed.
Roll on spring - I'm ready for you. Though I must say, it looks very pretty out there right now ...