Limited reserves

I've been in Nashville 7 months. When considering moving here, I often reminded myself that Nashville, unlike practically all of Mississippi, has seasons. Real honest-to-goodness seasons. Spring, summer, fall, AND winter. I've never really had a winter except for the week one February when I went to Michigan. So, I counseled myself, Nashville has snow and extended cold weather; it might be your only chance in life to actually experience a real winter. A very convincing argument, if I do say so.

The winter of '05 - '06 has turned out to be one of the warmest winters the South (including Nashville, of course... the lines between North and South are growing fuzzier every day) has experienced. We've pretty much had highs in the 60s all winter except for a few cold snaps.

Did I mention I'm a very (very, very, very, ridiculously) cold-natured person?

This weekend was the big cold-snap, perhaps inspired by the winter olympics. We've had snow and ice and all that good stuff. The high yesterday was somewhere around 25, I believe. So, I've had my little taste of winter.

I was thinking about that fact as I sat comatose in my bed under two down blankets and three heavy quilts, struggling to stay warm enough to take my next breath. What I failed to consider when thinking a good, old-fashioned winter would be a good experience for me was that cold absolutely petrifies me. When my toes and fingers and nose and everything in between is cold, my only thought is to get under a blanket. I may or may not have the energy to prepare a hot drink. I don't even need a good book to curl up with. I find myself shivering under mounds of blankets in a stupor, thinking only about the fact that my toes are warmed to the point that I can feel them enough to realize they are freezing cold. All of my energy is entirely consumed with regaining some semblance of adequate warmth. The mere thought of pulling my cold fingers out from beneath the blanket to hold a book exhaustes me to the point of falling back into my thoughtless stupor.

I'm sure the answer is coffee, but it's started staining my teeth.

Either way, it must be a good thing that I'm moving back further south. I don't know if I could survive a real Nashville winter.