You might have guessed that it's cold. Actually it's not just cold, it's bitter cold. I know I shouldn't complain and compared to last year when it was minus 11 it's practically balmy, but I'm so fed up of being cold. It starts in the morning when I have to scrape the ice off the car (still loving the car, like totally), then I get to libraryland and it's a cold cold place if you reside on the ground floor like what I do, then it's more cold on the walk back to the car park, and the house is cold, and my bed is brrrrrrr cold as my radiator (also known as Wavey) is working away again. Tis chilly times indeedy.
Yesterday I wore 3 layers including one large chunky cardigan and was kinda warm, but not toasty, plus my hands remained like ice blocks.
Today I foolishly braved only 2 layers despite one of them being super chunky and the other is my long sleeved top that is tighty-tight around my wrists so no cold drafts could get up there. It was chuffing freezing and I've spent most of the day wearing my outside scarf whilst indoors.
Would 4 layers be too much for tomorrow?
Is it perhaps that I keep choosing to wear short skirts cos they look funkay with my grey biker boots?
You know what the worst thing of all is though? I'm in serious danger of turning into a hermit cos I just want to come home from work, light the fire, and not move from my sofa until I'm toasty roasty. So far this week I've turned down Zumba, and another free bingo sesh, although to be fair that is mainly because my Wavey time is presssssssshus at the moment and I'm greedy with choosing to spend my weekends with him whilst he's away so much.
I'm dreaming of sunshine. Lovely warm sunshine. When you only require one layer of clothing and it's more than sufficient. Is it very long to wait...?
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