I like the cold until I don't like it anymore. This recent spell of frigid weather has me dreaming (nightmaring) of walking to school as a young child in -20 degree wind chill temperatures. You haven't lived until you feel that burning sensation on your face after walking indoors from an arctic stroll in northern Illinois.
Here's what's interesting: We never complained. The icy air and numb fingers and slick roads were so much a part of our lives that we didn't know we had the option of complaining.
Imagine going through life without the option of complaining. I'm not talking about repressing the urge to complain - I mean imagine the non-existence of complaining.
I'm going to try to revert to younger days when complaining about situations yielded no results. An impossible feat methinks, but an interesting effort it shall be.
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