It’s that time of the year when icy mornings and chilly evenings find me either wedged in front of the wood fire or in my bed at grandma o’clock with my leckie blankie on.
So I’m not spending time in front of my computer, not blogging and pretty much ignoring the rest of the world. It’s something I do every year in winter – I just pull into myself and try to make it through the chilly months and then emerge in spring like a chrysalis (except not that beautiful or graceful).
During winter you’ll be lucky to get a reply to a text message from me if my phone is more than five steps away from the heater, let alone a blog that requires me to freeze my ass off for an hour or so in the other room while I get all literary on your asses.
What’s hilarious though, is that Perth doesn’t even get cold! It doesn’t even get a toe onto the ladder of ridiculous cold that most people have to suffer through during the winter months and yet it’s still enough to send me to hibernation central.
To give myself a reality check, I sometimes think back to the minus twelve degree mornings that I regularly walked to school in in the hole quaint country town I grew up in and wonder how I did it. I then think back to the three or four feet of snow that I lived in for several months of the year in Japan and think, ‘How the fuck did I do that?’
I think somewhere along the line I got old and now I just can’t be bothered to be uncomfortable. I think after a certain age, survival stops being ‘fun’ and ‘exciting’ and you just want your warm fires and tall mugs of hot chocolate.
Or maybe that’s just me.
Speaking of uncomfortable (and enough of the old woman surrounded by cats talk) I’m in week two of LOPUMA (lump of plastic up my ass) training.
Last week it was the small LOPUMA and this week I’ve moved onto the medium LOPUMA – which is not really something to celebrate, but I feel the need to give a small yay anyhow…
Apparently next week I move onto Mr. Purple – which is definitely not something to celebrate.
(And just in case you’ve forgotten who all the characters are in my self-pleasure box, there’s a post and pics here.)
And why the LOPUMA training? I hear you all ask. Well, apparently the man has decided that my ass needs to be ready for WOMAD (weapons of mass ass destruction).
(And in case you haven’t noticed, acronyms are my thing this week…)
I’ve mentioned to him that I regularly do my own MAD with Mr. Pink during my releases and therefore there is no need for LOPUMA, but he has been unswayed by my arguments.
Personally, I think he just enjoys seeing me with LOPUMA and struggling to keep my temper in check.
Because that’s what LOPUMAs do to me – make me really, irrationally angry.
Actually I think I’ve just discovered why I’m passive aggressive – I’m constantly constipated and therefore it’s like I’ve got LOPUMA all the time. So I’m just angry ALL THE TIME.
And that’s why I should blog more – I always manage to answer my own questions.
(Just in case you’re wondering how I managed to blog today while I’m hibernating, well, I’m at work with the room temperature set to 26° and another heater under my desk. Mmmm…double heaters.)