Ticklebuddy Wonderpoo (aubkabob) wrote,
Ticklebuddy Wonderpoo

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how do i KNOW, you ask?

*points to her screen and shrieks like a howler monkey* because it SAYS SO right there on my weather pixie!

fourty-six freaking degrees.

and there's no heat on in here.

i'm wearing two layers of clothing, and i can't stop shivering like mad. mom said that in the 'dead of winter', that sometimes we're LUCKY to hit 46 degrees. the high we had yesterday, 56, was what I was used to in the dead of winter. at night. if it were raining.

and i.. i have to go out... in THAT *waves hand emphatically*.. that FOG! i could get lost! what if there's a MONSTER behind a tree? phoenix doesn't have this.. this.. FOG you speak of! i remember even the first time ever driving in fog, coming back from a sandy eggo trip, where i freaked out and almost pulled to the side of the road and waited for it to pass.

i have to go out in THAT and sit for who knows how long and wait for a bus. i think my heart will stop.

and freaking BITE me if you think i'm BATHING in this cold. i'll go to work and sweat and toil over freight anyhow, so what will a litlte shower matter?

my mommy says that she will see about possibly moving the stuff away from the heater so that she can maybe run it tonight.

i told her last night when i crawled into bed that i could tell the weather was turning, because no matter how long i laid there, the air in my air mattress was STILL cold.

i'm so cold that i even debated (for a second or two) going to work without a bra, so that i wouldn't have to take my shirt off. it would be covered by an apron anyway, and how much can you really TELL with a tshirt covered by a baggy sweater?!? but what if i get hot (michaels likes to regulate their temperature, unlike SOME places.. like home perhaps?), and need to take off the sweater?!? bouncy babies, is what. boingy boingy. my breasts would sway in the breeze. and not even in unison.

so i guess i shall go change my pants, toss on a bra (with my ice cold fingers *shudder*), and comb my hair back into some semblance of a bun and go. try not to think about it. cold is a figment of your imagination, aubrey.


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