Close Enough

Cold weather is the best. As long as it doesn't touch me.

I like the cold. I like the idea of it. I like hot cocoa and scarves and wearing the same shirt 35 times in a row...and no one knowing because the jacket I wear 100 days in a row is covering it.

As a Floridian, it's nice looking outside my window and seeing frost on it. It makes it feel like my state actually has seasons. But to be truthful, when it comes to going outside in the cold, I can’t fucking move.

I immediately become a brick with a very important mission: GET. INSIDE. NOW. The only emotion on my face is sheer terror, and I can’t do anything except look constipated and walk in a straight line until I'm indoors again. 

I don't care which door it is.

Yesterday was a really cold day. I was so proud of myself because I finally dressed warm enough to walk my dog without crying. But someone, who we will call Judgmental Bitch (for confidentiality reasons), had to snow on my parade. She looked at me like I had just walked out of a UFO and said, "You look like an Eskimo."

I looked at her outfit that consisted of sandals and one jacket and then i looked down at my 500 layers...i calmly went upstairs with my warm outfit on, curled into a ball under my 17 warm covers and said, “I ain’t even ashamed.”


And so this picture was born. I am the awesome penguin. And Judgmental Bitch is the slutty penguin with nothing on but stupid ear muffs.