I was wrong.
I know you’re all silently pumping your fist under your desk, thrilled that a smug(ly) know-it-all like me just said those three magical words. I’ll let you have your moment.
But for as insufferable as I am when I correct your inaccurate lyrics or explain the reasons that lactose intolerance is a fictional ailment, I’m not afraid to admit when I am wrong. And I have been horribly, terribly, unbelievably wrong. I’m a complete idiot. I’m a bit ashamed, actually.
You see, I recently realized something. I make myself suffer through the winter. It’s my own fault.
If I were on a red carpet and a reporter asked me who designed my pants, I’d have to say “Which ones?” because I wear running leggings under my jeans. It’s bulky and unsightly, but so is Clay Matthews, and people still love him.
I have a space heater breathing its delightful breaths directly onto my sneakers, but my toes are still frozen tater tots.
And if my hand accidentally touched your bare skin, you would recoil and ask me if I was a reptile or a corpse. The good news is that I don’t like touching people, so you’re safe.
I’ve considered not washing my hands after I go to the bathroom because the idea of subjecting my already chalky hands to another round of abuse seems cruel. When I shake your hand, you’re actually meeting my alter ego, Ashy KeLarry.
I don’t own wool socks or warm shoes. I don’t have sweaters that fit me, so I rotate the same three hoodies all winter long. My coat barely qualifies. But it looks warm, and it was free, and it’s already mid-January so why would I go get a new coat?
Every year, I’m completely unprepared for winter. Because I hate it. Because I don’t like wearing coats or wool socks. Because I think sweaters are frumpy and boring. Because I’d rather spend my discretionary income on tropical fruits or neon bikinis or flights to Costa Rica.
My policy on the winter is to I pretend it’s not coming. So when it comes — and it always does — I just kind of suffer. Cold, miserable, and unprepared.
It starts to sound like a right-wing religious demagogue.
I hate the cold. It makes me uncomfortable. It’s just not right. Being cold is just not the Lord’s way. I want to keep cold out of our community. I don’t want them teaching about cold in our schools. I want to dedicate my life to ending the cold.
It’s the same faulty logic as idiots who believe in abstinence-only sex education or that being gay is a choice. We all live on this utopian island of denial, when we’re the ones who are wrong. We pretend it’s not a force of nature. We pretend it’s not biology.
Do you know how ashamed I am to be such a fool?
Winter isn’t coming. Winter is here. Buying a better coat doesn’t change the likelihood of cold. It only makes me better prepared to face it.