The cats are all over me all night. I keep the window cracked at night because I love the cold, and the girls (see Calpurnia at left, on my boobs despite me trying to nudge her off with my MacBook), are crazy with the snuggling. It'd like to think it's love, but I know it's mostly body temperature maintenance.
My asthma is exercise-induced and triggered by cold dry air, so my exhilarating, sometimes reckless bike runs through dark Chicago streets are punctuated with wracking coughs. But biking gives me that adrenaline rush I cannot live without, so I'm getting out as much as I can.
I'm tough but I'm delicate. My skin sensitivities are in full swing. My sun allergy is less of an issue, but hot showers make me break out in what look like second degree burns. I've even started getting waxed to spare myself ten more minutes shaving in the shower every day.
I moisturize all day long. Every night before bed I slather myself one last time in yummy-smelling lotion and slip into the softest jammies and bedsheets known to humankind. What can I say? I'm a tomboy but I'm still a girl. This time of year, I'm all about being touched by soft things. Give me a cashmere sweater and flannel sheets and I'll be your best friend forever.