HOT
When I get into that miserable, feeling-bad-about-things, self-conscious, what-am-I-doing-here kinda mood, I start to feel hot. I'm currently actually sweating, even though it's 68 degrees in my house. (Look, when you live in Florida, talk about sweat becomes an accepted occurrence.)
I really have some kind of strange relationship to temperature... I was designed to live somewhere cold. I am always hot, all the time. As far as I know, my base temperature is not measurably hotter than it ought to be, but nonetheless... Last week a friend of mine sat down on a sofa I had just vacated and remarked on how weirdly hot the seat was. Huh.
Anyway. That's a whole other issue. Right now I am hot because I am, shall we say, unsettled. Grumpy. Ever so slightly freaked out about my life, career, weight, relationship, and imminent shifts at the Jungle Cruise.
I should probably go to bed... it is 6:30, after all. Hmph.
I really have some kind of strange relationship to temperature... I was designed to live somewhere cold. I am always hot, all the time. As far as I know, my base temperature is not measurably hotter than it ought to be, but nonetheless... Last week a friend of mine sat down on a sofa I had just vacated and remarked on how weirdly hot the seat was. Huh.
Anyway. That's a whole other issue. Right now I am hot because I am, shall we say, unsettled. Grumpy. Ever so slightly freaked out about my life, career, weight, relationship, and imminent shifts at the Jungle Cruise.
I should probably go to bed... it is 6:30, after all. Hmph.