Cold Feet

You'd think that title was metaphoric for something, right? Like, "The groom has cold feet," or something similar? Yeah? Well, IT'S SO NOT.

I have this unbearable condition called CATT. Cold All The Time. It sucks ass. Cold ass. Every night when I get in bed with The Girlfriend I nestle my butt on to her furnace of a body and she shrieks and squirms and I delight in my ass being warm for the first time since I woke up, and she flinches every time I adjust my position as a new cold body part hits her.

Today, instead of unpacking and doing the massive amounts of laundry and hanging pictures, I got talked in to going fishing with a friend and his wife. So The Girlfriend, Emily and I got in the truck and left. It was windy, and cold, and I do not like the wind, nor do I like the cold. It was fun. Emily had a good time and so did The Girlfriend. I, however, got cold around two pm and by the time we left at SEVEN PM I was frozen solid. The Girlfriend had to peel my crossed legs from the ground, complete with fingers attached to the bottom of my thighs and carry me up a hill with the fishing poles as if I were some type of sitting statue and let me defrost on the ride home. OK, not really, but damn. I'm still cold. Freezing. Can't feel my toes, my butt, or my nose and my backspace key is totally getting abused by the amount of frozen finger errors.

Brrrrr.