Feels Like Comfort

Hi, it’s me, the feels-like temperature.

In the summer, when everything’s looking bright and sunny, I can be a Positive Pete! Or sometimes a Blazing Blanche. Or maybe even a Sticky Steve. But during this stretch of the year–these desolate, cold, windy months–I turn into a real Negative Nancy from time to time.

Or, am I even allowed say that? Because, after all, can I possibly be considered a “real” anything?

That’s the question, isn’t it?

In some ways, I am the closest thing you will ever experience to a ghost. I am both here and not here. You cannot touch me, yet I can hurt you somehow. I exist in a liminal space between the order of reality and the chaos of dreamland.

And, like some sort of spectral nuisance, I often tap on your windows or slip my fingers into the openings I can find, beckoning for you to come out or begging for you to let me in.

To which you, like so many victims of the hauntings seen in so many horror films, reply with a repeated, shrieking mantra: “It’s not real! It can’t do anything to me! It’s not real! It can’t do anything to me!”

And in some ways, I can’t. But also, I can.

Even when you’re inside.

You know exactly what I’m talking about. Your house–your beautiful, efficiently heated house–just feels different when there’s a chill in the air outside of those wonderfully insulated walls and modern, multi-paned windows. You can bolt the doors and draw the shades. You can crank the thermostat to an irresponsibly high number. Yet, there it lingers, that tingle, evidence that…

I’m already inside the house.

Which is to say nothing about outside. Even crossing a parking lot when I’m down double digits below zero can be painful.

And you might think the solution is in the outer layers. A bigger coat. A thicker sweater. A scarf. Fleece-lined pants. But really, the base layer dictates your comfort more than anything. Even just a simple long-sleeve shirt like one of these, something that adds only a thin layer of protection to three-quarters more of your arm than a normal tee–even that can go a long way.

Also, they’re comfy and a little stretchy. And they have pockets, which is fun.

Anyway, that’s all I have time to say today. Unfortunately, there’s work to do. Clouds have covered the sun, and the wind is picking up, which means it’s limbo time.

How low can I go?