Now that we’ve entered the period of time that corresponds to Fall in all reasonable places, the temperature has become to drop and LA has begun to assume its true desert identity – hot sun during the day that gives way to cold nights.  Of course, at this point, by cold I mean 55 degrees.  In high school, I wore t-shirts for most of the year, including the winter.  I was cold, sure, but again, that was in 35-40 degrees, outside in a t-shirt.  A few days ago, the first morning it wasn’t warm, I was shivering.  Inside.  Wearing a sweater.

I like to think that my war against commonplace phenomena has expanded to include cold, as well as sleep.  I would love to “thicken my blood” or whatever it is that happens when you become accustom to temperature.  I hate being cold, so it sucks to be stripped of your resistance to it.  When I go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas my hands go to ice when I walk outside and I huddle up next to the fire.  That sucks.  And even compared to that, 55 is balmy.  I figure the more that I can expose myself to it, and just suck it up, the more I’ll build my resistance.  The only problem?  Turns out, that sucks.  Being cold sucks.  Being cold at 55 really isn’t much better than being cold at 30.

So I think the only solution is to just let it come.  I’ll still dress for the weather and try to be comfortable, but now, when I do get cold, when I forget to bring a jacket, or to close my window open at night, I won’t be upset about it.  I’ll just smile and grit my teeth, comfortable with the knowledge that it’s just making me stronger.


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