I Hate Winter

Well, this is the first time saying it on this blog, though I’ve said it many a time on CTA. I really, really, really freaking hate winter.

First thing you should know, I live in Texas. Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Oh, poor little Southern girl, with your fifty degree winters. You try to survive up here in Alaska!” Or wherever. Yeah, okay, I’m not saying that Texas winters are the worst, because I know the conditions could be a lot worse. But I don’t care. I don’t freaking like being cold.

The thing is, my house has no central heating. Me and my mom have to rely on two gas heaters, and a few measly electric ones, so cold weather pretty much sucks at my house. But it’s at least bearable when we actually have heat!

Today I woke up to quite possibly the coldest day (22°F!) we’d experienced this season yet. Everything, from trees and grass to our car was coated in a sheer coat of ice, half an inch thick.

But it was fine. It was magical even. I thought it was cool (no pun intended). That was before I came home from school to find that we had depleted our stock of propane.

Our house felt like an igloo. It was growing colder every minute. So, with numb fingers and resigned sighs, Mom and I packed some overnight bags.

And here I am. Writing this post from a room at the local La Quinta. Well, I suppose there’s worse lodgings…this place better have a continental breakfast.


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