I do not like the cold.

Anyone who has passed a winter with me knows this. In fact, when the weather outside moves beyond requiring a light jacket, I am more often than not to be found inside clutching our portable space heater for dear life.  Last year at St. Mary's during the epic blizzard, it was not unknown for me to leave our suite wearing 6 or 7 layers of clothing. (Come to think of it, it was not unknown for me wear 6 or 7 layers whilst inside the suite - darn that air conditioning!) There was a period of several days in late January when I would only venture out to go to the campus store or to the gym, and ate nothing but Campbell's Soup and Wheat Thins because the trip to the Campus Center would have spelled a death sentence for me.

So why did I decide to go to grad school in England, a country that is not exactly known for its warm and temperate climate? As my father is fond of saying, 'Beats the hell out of me.'

Thursday and Friday morning were actually quite pleasant in terms of temperature. Normal people were wearing t-shirts or shorts. I was only slightly chilly, which is a drastic improvement from usual. But the rain started on Friday evening and by Sunday it had dropped fifteen degrees. Today was simply unbearable. I left to do laundry and almost gave up entirely about halfway on the journey to the laundry room...which is about a minute's walk. It is not so much the cold that bothers me, but the damp. It was 'raining' in the manner that only seems to occur in England. It is a form of precipitation that is enough to be considered as such, but is not quite rain. It is as if the rain simply can't be bothered to come down properly and so settles for a half-mist, half-spritz that is annoying more than anything else. It will not really get you wet (unless you lay out in it, which I see no rational reason for doing), but instead seems to settle into your bones and permeate your soul. This makes the accompanying cold and wind seem so much worse.

Such was the situation today that, laundry finally conquered, I debated whether or not it was worth it to go outside to buy groceries. (Readers: I was almost willing to give up my Diet Coke for the day due to the weather. This is serious!!!!)

In the end, I did go out, mainly because I would have felt incredibly guilty for not having left my room save to do laundry.  And because I really needed that Diet Coke after reading about atrocities committed in the Sudan.

I must say that I am looking forward to returning home to where I can hug the space heater, wear my mukluks without being laughed at, and bask in the wonders of central heating. (Oh and the warm, warm love of family/friends/pets/boyfriend, of course.)

That said, I do hope it snows.