"All the world's a stage, and the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts."

- William Shakespeare

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

shake, rattle & roll

I don't think my dad realizes that when I walk around the house in a sweater with the hood up, hunched shoulders and the fluffiest slippers you can imagine, it means I'm cold.

But I am.

I'm very cold. And it's becoming a re-occuring theme all of a sudden. Which can only mean one thing...

Winter is upon us.

It's only two months (to the day!) until Christmas. Two. Months. Can you believe it? If I wasn't so cold, I'd be pretty excited. I mean, let's be honest - I've been listening to Christmas carols for a good three weeks now.

Still, as much as I day dream about hot chocolates and glistening sunlight on freshly fallen snow, my mind can't help but reverting back to thinking, "Why can't I feel my toes?!"

And this is me indoors. Which brings me back to my father.

I caught him outside the other day (when I managed to shuffle out of my room in my warmest sweater and pajama pants), just sitting on one of the muskoka chairs on our porch. I asked him what he was doing. "Cooling off," was his only response. The sad thing is, he hadn't come from a run or a work out - he'd just been working at his desk inside. But apparently the 'heat' was too much for him. The same 'heat' that makes me afraid to leave my bed in the morning for fear of frostbite.

Oh, the joys of having a father (aka thermostat controller) with an internal heater!

If you're wondering where I am this winter when you're out having a snowball fight or ice skating or snowboarding... I'll be cuddled up in my bed, too terror-stricken to venture out into the cold hallway and further out into the probably warmer outdoors.

Lucky for me I've got enough movies to last a lifetime and a new bar-fridge in my room, so I can afford to begin hibernating a bit earlier this year! Of course, you won't get rid of me that easily - my computer gets warm enough to roast marshmellows over... which is probably a bad thing, but it sure beats last year's 'middle-of-the-room-garbage-can-fire'! ;)

Keep it real!

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