Last night, I Tweeted quite possibly, the most pathetic Tweet I’ve ever Tweeted. And I Tweet a lot of rubbish. May I present you with evidence A:
See. Told you. I even then went on to have full blown discussions about socks, and cramp, and hot water bottles and …. I don’t know about you, but this is the first year I’ve really felt the cold and, more depressingly, my age.
I find myself saying things I never dreamt I’d ever say.
I present you with evidence B – things I’ve said out loud this week:
“Ooooh, the thermostat needs to be turned up a bit.”
“I’m going to have to wear another pair of socks.”
“Blimey, I’m going to have to invest in an electric blanket.”
“Oh no, it’s snowing. It’ll be a nightmare getting to work.”
“Where’s the hot water bottle?”
“Is it Spring yet?”
Not that anyone replied mind you.
This blog post really has no purpose other than to admit that gone are the days I look forward to the snow so I can build snowmen – it all just looks rather cold and getting to work is a real pain. I understand now why Dad would make us wear an extra jumper in the winter – heating is bloody expensive! And instead of enjoying a good old spoon in bed to keep warm … I am, alas, spoon-less. *sniff*
Perhaps that’s my problem right now? I’m missing someone to spoon. Winter isn’t designed for single people. There just aren’t enough socks in the world that can warm my feet up better than warming them up between a man’s legs. (Charming, aren’t I?)
Looking at me, you’d think I’ve got enough padding to keep me warm right through until the Summer, (and you’d be right,) but these days, I just can’t get warm.
I guess one plus point of having to downgrade and move to a smaller house is that it might just keep me warmer next winter because quite frankly, I’d rather invest in thermals than spoon a man that doesn’t make me happy.
Oh God, I’ve just realised something else I did this week that sums it up perfectly.
I agreed to review a onesie.
Kill me now. Seriously.