Our local weather forecaster has predicted that the temperature will reach the not terribly balmy mid-thirties tonight, and a frost advisory has been issued. I'm in my bed right now, and I've covered myself with two heavy comforters and an electric blanket. I very nearly gave the electric blanket away when my family moved. At this moment I'm very grateful for my own lack of generosity. I'm feeling slightly yucky, which is causing me to feel the cold more than I otherwise might. I may even skip one or more classes tomorrow. I've already contacted professors, and everyone says it's fine to stay home if necessary. Secretly I suspect they're all afraid they'll catch whatever it is that I have. They don't know that I don't actually have anything other than a recent upper respiratory infection. I'm just small, but they think there is some chronic or serious illness involved. For the moment I won't bother to correct them because their false suspicions are working to my benefit.
People who live anywhere from the Sierra Nevadas to the east coast would suggest that I'm a total and complete wimp for complaining about temperatures in the 30's, but it is not supposed to be this cold here. We're in a central coastal location. We admit that we're spoiled. We have occasional rain, but we don't typically have temperatures in the 30's. I could say this is proof that global warming is not happening, but I'm not that stupid. I'm not a birther either, for that matter.
My weight is at a twenty-two-month high of eighty-six pounds. I really hope this cold or whatever doesn't undo any of the progress I've made in that area. I'm going to try very hard to eat whether or not I feel like it. If I stay home tomorrow I'll have more time to eat.
I've spent relatively little time in my lovely, cozy room. It's decorated in the same white shade with broght pink and white accents and a musical motif. The large portraits of Bach, Mozart, and Billy Joel adorn the walls just as they did in my room in the other house, along with an enlargement of my profile picture. I told my mom it looks as though I'm placing myself on the same level as the musical geniuses. She laughed and agreed, but said when Uncle Ralph pays the bill, he has some say in what goes in the room. Nothing totally makes being sick tolerable, but this room comes close.