cynth (cynthtastic) wrote,

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Random thoughts

My feet have been cold for the past four days. I've taken measures to warm them up, but they behave as though they have no circulatory system. Perhaps you can remember sleeping with a teddy bear or similar, plush friend as a child. In the morning, when Teddy was nice and warm from a night of cuddling, you would tuck him into the warm sheets and blankets, kiss him goodbye, and toddle off to school or where ever your day took you, all the while assuming that the warm Teddy in the warm blankets would stay warm. At night, you returned to find a cold Teddy in a cold bed. Why? Surely, if you had stayed in bed all day, you and your warm blankets would still be warm. Even to a childish mind, the basic principles of insulation make some sense, and while you probably did keep Teddy warmer longer this way -- feel free to console yourself with this assumption -- Teddy is and always was unable to create his own heat. With no heat source, he and your bed were bound to go cold: no circulatory system. I, on the other hand, do have a circulatory system. So, why is that I warm my feet, tuck them under a warm blanket, and they go cold again? This may have something to do with the lack of insulation in my apartment. I wish it could be wrapped in a warm blanket to keep out the chill. The back door is so loosely fitted that it allows in both light and wind; some of the windows are cracked, and none of the storm windows can be inspired to come down from their lofty perches, where they sit so smugly. In short, while our heating bill has nearly doubled, our warmth is nearly halved.

Perhaps I have not mentioned this, but I recently got my hair trimmed. It was time; it had been well over a year and perhaps closer to two. The hairdresser asked if I wore up often, and I told her I wore it up everyday. She could tell because my hair was thinning; she indicated the area, and it was exactly where I'd been tying it in a ball since it became long enough to tie in a ball. Her advice? Wear it down more often to let my scalp breathe. I wasn't aware the scalp could perform respiration, nor that it was a necessity, but who was I to argue? Since then, I've worn it down everyday. This necessitates use of a hairdryer, and I am not capable of operating a hairdryer. The manual dexterity required to simultaneously control a hairdryer, a brush, and an angry, windswept head of hair is purely and simply something for which I do not have any capacity. I have injured myself while standing alone dribbling a basketball; I do not have hand-eye coordination. To spare myself undo amounts of stress and anxiety, I purchased a brush which is a hairdryer. These are reviled by the hair-dexterous set; please feel free to leave comments denouncing my use of this abomination. While not ideal, it does allow me a free hand with which to wrangle my wayward hair, as it is brushed and blown. Nevertheless, I'm incapable of creating any sort of style; it is merely a victory for me to use any sort of hair-drying implement with an end result that is not a hot, wet knot of hair the size of a regulation softball.

Resolutions have been made. Habits have been changed. Goals are being set. More on this later -- it's time to get ready for work.
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