Bitter, bone-cracking cold assaults you continuously. You can feel the cold worming its way through your layers of clothing and biting into your flesh.
— Lovecraft-inspired text adventure The Lurking Horror (Infocom, 1987)
Winter officially began today: I wore a scarf and my “Canadian moose hunter” hat with earflaps to work. It’s been cold for a while, but this morning I got up to find it was 15°C in my room, and that was when the heating had been on for an hour. It was worse when I got home: 14°C, which immediately prompted me to ask my drummer housemate (the landlady’s proxy and de facto head of the household) if we could have the heating on for a while… only to discover that he had already put it on. Yes, it’s so cold that even our resident penny-pincher, who undid my changes to the hot water times the other day, has put the heating on constant!
I don’t cope well with this temperature level: it’s one thing for it to be cold outside, but cold inside as well is a major drain on my cheer and goodwill. This is why working from home on Tuesday afternoon, and staying home to study on Wednesday, wasn’t a particularly positive experience, and I have a massive impetus to go to work every day during the winter (because I don’t pay for their heating), and so, rather than pretending work at home, I can pretend to work in the office instead! I’m also visiting my family in Worthing this weekend, where things should be a bit warmer (particularly since the heater in my room apparently can’t be turned off, even in summer, even when the actual heating is turned off!).
Although I seem to feel the cold more than others (especially at rest), apparently it’s not by much. I still remember that horrible, horrible night my group spent at a campsite just outside the Grand Canyon national park, which was around two kilometres above sea level, and even in May the temperature got down to freezing point, as we struggled to sleep in our tents (I was wearing several layers in my sleeping bag, which didn’t help my face!). The following morning we persuaded our guide to take us to Vegas a day early… and boy, was it ever hot in the desert.
Speaking of the western USA, I note it’s still relatively warm in Los Angeles, and they don’t really seem to have a “winter” as such, so I’ve decided that’s where I’m gonna move if I get the chance to leave this cold, soggy, football-obsessed island behind forever. Oh, wait, there’s one thing about Britain that I actually like, but I’ll post about that tomorrow, on its 50th anniversary (a day after the Kennedy assassination)…
Oh, you’ll be pleased to know the temperature’s trembled up to 19°C while I’ve been writing this (though admittedly I’ve not been writing it in one go… continents could have risen and fallen in the time it’s taken to get this post out the door!), and I think we’ll be all right for another night. But next week it’ll be even colder… when’s this global warming gonna kick in, then?