Chicago's Wintertime Delights, In List Form

Thought it might be psychologically healthy for me (and boring for everyone else) for me to quantify the little daily seasonal things that are driving me nuts these days*. N-v-t-s nuts.

Although first, I am compelled to respond to all the people who, when I express apprehension at the slowly encroaching Chicago winter season (my first), remind me that "Hey, you're from Indiana, and winters there are pretty much the same, aren't they?"

No.

On to the list:

1. Frozen spit on the sidewalk. I have previously whinged about the utter ickiness of the almost exclusively male habit of flying hockers every which way in public, with seemingly no regard for the fact that people are then going to walk through their bodily fluids. (See "Dear Males, Why?") It gets better in the winter. Now those foamy wads of spit are frozen to the concrete, so now they're disgusting and a slipping hazard. Ew.

2. Static electricity. Mostly, I hate the fact that every time I reach for one of my cats, to dink them on the nose or snuggle them under the blanket, I shock the crap out of them, making them visibly recoil from my touch. Poor things. It makes me worry that they think I'm hurting them on purpose. I wish I could turn my apartment into a static-free zone. Humidifier? Maybe.

3. Dry hide, pink patchy cheeks, rough elbows, scaly skin. I swear I slather moisturizer everywhere twice a day, and I still feel like my skin was patched together from an elephant's butt.

*However, I still love my new city.