It’s cold. It’s winter. It’s cold and it’s winter. How surprising.

Trying to type this out with my hands and it’s hard as my hands are cold and it’s winter and cold hands and winter when it’s cold don’t make for a good mix… due to the cold and it being winter.

I wonder how long this will last. I wonder how long it will be before they invent heaters for hands that are powered by piss and vinegar. Maybe that would make them too warm, but you could have storage of the excess energy and that way they stay powered for a while, or something.

I think I’ve had an idea.

So anyway, I want it to be slightly less cold, or at least slightly less miserable. It’s not great weather, but I think I should survive. I think I could survive. I think I will survive. I’ll survive. However, I want more blankets, but I don’t want to be sweating, but this is the kind of weather where there is no real balance; it’s just one or the other, and you make do, so I’ve decided to deal with being both warm and cold, but only half of each.

It’s the only way to get the perfect balance.

Still, I’m sitting here and I’m not moving much, and it sucks but it’s also okay. It could be far worse than it could be far better, and somewhere in the middle is where it all why am I choosing to have half of myself be cold?

I can think of better ways to conduct myself, and I can also resolve this pretty quickly and yet I’m not. Instead of doing so, I’m sitting here crapping out a bunch of words. Why am I choosing this path? Why am I choosing to be this lazy? It’s not a good way to be, let me tell you, and let me tell you why:

I could be warmer.

It comes down to that. Warmth is something I can have more of and I’m choosing to not have more of it, and that would be considered not ideal by some. Perhaps it would be considered not ideal by most. I don’t know and I won’t profess to know until I truly know. However, I don’t want to know, you know?

So instead of doing the sensible thing, I’m cold and I remain cold and remaining cold is how I’ll remain, but for only half of me. The other half is still warm and it’s nice and all that, and at least there’s some pleasure in being only partially warm.

Then again, maybe it is an unnecessary burden that I am carrying and in my choosing to carry the burden I’m just hurting myself. Maybe I should just get under the sheets and forget about everything else, but I can’t. There’s still things to do and I need to be responsible and I don’t want to, but I have to, at least right now.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:39:41

Not exactly good writing by any measure, but it was fun to write.

Written at home.