See that kid black op-ing it in the snow? You couldn't pay me enough to go outside right now! Subzero temperatures, I fear, will be the death of me this winter.
It's to the point where I'm hunky-dory severing all ties to the outside world, except for an occasional milk run. And then, you'd be lucky to even recognize me in my covert winter gear. All you'd see is one mass of winter clothing galumphing across the parking lot. Not a pretty sight, my friends.
A few things have suffered due to my hermitage: I find my desire to shower is waning. Clothing of choice: sweats, wool socks, fleece coat, and a blanket wrapped around my mid-section like a frumpy toga. I question whose loins my children came from as they prance around the house in their short-sleeve shirts, SOCKLESS, like we live in Hawaii or something. We don't! The other night I went to bed wearing TWO hoodies and a pair of socks. Maybe I have poor circulation? It's getting ridiculous.
When I'm heading into day two or three of the same outfit, things probably seem a little scary to the ol' hubs. Where has his sexy wife ( heh, that's me) gone? I'm sure he's asking himself that very question, word-for-word. He doesn't recognize this hairy-legged female in his bed. Poor guy. I don't see an end in sight. Well, I do, but it's six months away. June.
As nasty as I may appear at this moment, I'm a pretty happy gal. I've given myself permission to do what it takes to survive and be okay with it. Bad hair, no make-up, frumpy clothes. Life is good.