Tuesday, Nov. 13, 2007 - 4:34 pm

Okay, I’ll allow it, outside of daylight hours it’s pretty nippy. But…seriously? The big coat is still hanging on the back of my bedroom door, I’m not even sure where my scarf is and I still sat for half this afternoon with the back door open. We did Soup ‘n’ Sparklers for Guy Fawkes and I had to go in from the garden half way through the evening to put on a short-sleeved shirt. When the sun goes down it gets cooler, and the wind doesn’t help, and it has rained a little, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to whinge about the whingeing. Specifically, the whingeing in my direction. I’ve said it before but what the hey, this is my place and I’m going to say it again:

1) I am not cold, and
2) If I were cold, I am in fact a fully functioning adult person capable of going and getting a coat and putting it on. By the fact that I have chosen not to exercise this right, you may assume that I am not feeling the cold.

Mostly it’s old ladies, and having had a grandmother who felt the cold terribly and couldn’t understand my….metabolism (?) I’m happy to indulge with a pleasant smile and a word or two. But everyone else? Please stop asking. Please, please stop asking. I’m not cold.

Well all right, all right, occasionally I am cold. But I prefer being cold. Given a choice between being too hot or too cold I’ll take cold any day. There are things one can do when cold in order to warm up, whereas there comes a point in being too hot that public decency laws step in and you can’t do anything about it. I cannot abide being too hot. I can barely stand being more than ‘pleasantly warm’. Basically once I start to sweat, even slightly, I hate it. I swear it makes me panic a little. This body doesn’t like it. That is not the metabolism I’ve been handed.

It helps that even if I have gotten cold, I warm up fast as soon as I’m back anywhere room temperature’d. And equally I cool down slow, so if I’ve left a warm-ish place I stay warm for ages. So long as I’m moving, you may assume that I am warm enough.

Well, it’s either the metabolism or the sub-epidermal fat, anyway.

My long-rambling point is:- please stop asking. I’m running out of witty replies. My standard to “Aren’t you cold?” (cf. grandmothers) is a smile and “Hardly ever.”, but I either need some new lines or I need to take out an ad in all the local papers so people stop asking. Please assume that the person you see walking around in a short-sleeved sweater, who looks otherwise perfectly happy and content, has not in fact just been mugged for her coat. Assume that she has the sense to put on a few extra layers if she wants them. Assume that all her jumper sleeves have not tragically shrunk in the wash and she’s too broke to buy any more. Really, just assume she’s perfectly happy in herself and leave her alone.

Unless she’s actually turning blue, in which case boil a kettle. But that hardly ever happens…

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