Mental Musings from
The Marginatrix
...because sometimes I just need to share my thoughts.
For someone who has been cold for much of her life, and that may be due, in part, to growing up in the northeast, it’s a strange sensation to find myself suddenly hot so much of the time, and I can assure you it’s not due to relocating to California. I get it. It’s a function of the hormonal shifts that occur as we age, and all other things aside, I have to say that I rather like it. No more emotional outbursts or depression, although if I’m being totally honest, COVID-19 is pushing me toward the edge. No more worries about what other people think of me. No more trying to please everyone else. Truly, aging has some great selling points. I highly recommend it, particularly since the alternative is not terribly appealing. So, I get hot now. Objectively, it’s not a big deal. I have to carry a hair clip and a fan with me wherever I go. I carry a sweater, as I’ve always done, having been trained well by an Italian mother (who also taught me to use the bathroom, no matter what, every time, prior to leaving the house), even though I seldom get to use said sweater anymore. I keep thinking one of these days my body temperature will return to its normal state, and sometimes I feel it slowly inching down. I don’t really want that though. Given the choice between being hot and being cold, I find it easier to deal with the heat. It’s generally easier to cool off than it is to warm up. I still vividly recall winter afternoons spent in my bedroom after school, trying to write a paper or working out equations for math class while wearing gloves. I’ll never forget frigid mornings spent huddled under the covers, attempting to heat my clothing while also getting dressed, all the while striving desperately to avoid exposing my body to the icy air. I have no desire to go back to those times. I imagine if I lived there now, I might still experience the cold, but at times, I’m not so sure. This interior furnace leads me to believe I could conquer a Connecticut winter with nothing more than a light jacket...perhaps a scarf to keep my neck warm when the wind blows. I’m afraid gloves might make my hands sweat. Compared to the shivering I remember so well, sweat is a welcome relief. So, I guess what I’m saying is, given the choice, I’ll take the current internal temperature fluctuations. Remind me of that the next time I’m overcome by my own personal heatwave. 2020-05-13
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Elizabeth J. Connor
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