Monday, May 28, 2012

Confessions of a Weather Wimp

I had plans this holiday weekend, big plans. Outdoor plans that included gardening, perusing Pleasanton's annual Antiques & Collectables Faire on Main Street, hiking around Lake Chabot, and, of course, long, leisurely walks with my greyhound, Olivia.

Oh y
eah baby, plans, big plans. None of which happened.

Because when I awoke early Saturday morning and looked out my bedroom window, I saw gray, overcast skies and treetops swaying in the wind and had but one thought: Hell no, I won't go.

Because I am a Weather Wimp.

My friends know this all too well. I accept invitations for outdoor activities, but always with the caveat that I will cancel if it ____(fill in the blank): rains,threatens to rain, looks like rain, has rained, will rain, might rain, appears to rain, shows evidence of rain, drizzles, is windy, breezy, foggy, cloudy, damp or chilly.

Give me the heat any day. During hot summer days, my neighbors marvel that they rarely hear the drone of my air conditioner even during triple-digit temperatures. It's gotta be pretty darn toasty for me to break into a sweat. And thank goodness, California usually enjoys a dry heat. I love opening my windows and sitting in-between a nice cross-breeze, relishing the gentle warmth on my bare skin like a comforting hug.

Not so, the cold. It hurts.

The cold makes my eyes sting, my ears throb, my skin ache, and renders immobile my frost-bitten limbs. I can't move, can't think, can't function when a bitter glacial wind is cloaking my body like a blanket of needles. Only one thought is able to penetrate my ice-laden mind when I'm engaged in an outdoor activity and engulfed in arctic elements: when, oh when will the inhumanity end?

And when it drops below 60 degrees, then I really suffer.

So mostly, I stayed indoors this holiday weekend, braving the piercing winds only to take Olivia on her walks. Paying no heed to the crazy fools who were leisurely lounging by the community pool, cracking through the ice to splash about and pretend the weather wasn't really a Siberian 64 degrees.

Or so thinks the Weather Wimp.

1 comment:

Dip-Dip and the Bridge said...

Don't ever move to the UK where it is Winter 300 days of the year, LOL.
Lynne x

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