I knew it was coming and I
thought I was prepared for it. The cold weather. Well, not the cold weather
itself, that I can deal with. I have purchased numerous coats, sweatshirts, and
boots. Waterproof boots, because I know what a Chicago winter can be like. The
slush, the ice, the cold feet. I stocked up on undershirts and long sleeve
shirts. Like I said, I thought I was prepared. And then the cooler weather
came. Not cold, bitter Chicago weather, just cooler weather, and I discovered I
was not mentally prepared. Not mentally prepared for wearing long pants day
after day. For twenty seven years I wore shorts exclusively. Maybe I wore long
pants for a total of twenty days in all that time. The thing is that in Florida
I would bundle up for those rare fifty degree nights, and pull on a pair of
long pants. Other than that I was Mr. Shorty. I love the freedom of shorts, so
easy to unbutton and sit relaxed in my big fluffy recliner chair. Now I am condemned
to wear these long, uncomfortable pants until next May. Maybe that's why I
moved to Florida in the first place. I had an unconscious hatred of wearing
pants.
1989 |
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