Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Absolute Zero on the Amy Scale

Cold feet.

You may be familiar with the term, but I doubt many are more familiar with the physicality of it than me.  
Or Jeffrey. 

It's not that we are nervous people.  We aren't.  It's just that I really have cold feet.  I remember the first time I learned that it was an abnormality.  It was February. I was at a friend's house and we were watching Planet of the Apes which is a great Junior High movie, I'm telling you.  I was sitting on the couch with my feet tucked beneath a blanket, attempting the impossible task of warming them up when one of my friends, looking for a place to sit, sat on the blanket covering my feet.  I was grateful for the added warmth and told him to not move as it was helping.  After about three minutes he got up and found a new place to sit.  After the movie he told me he couldn't sit there any longer, the cold from my feet had seeped up through the blanket and was making him cold!

For as long as I can remember, when the evening temperature wanders below 60* my body decides my extremities no longer need heating thus leaving me with literal cold feet.  But not just cold.  No, that would be playing fair.  My feet lose all heat energy and scientists leave off trying to achieve absolute zero and begin striving to reach the thermodynamic temperature of my feet; 0 A. Forget the Kelvin scale, they focus all their scientific minds on the Amy scale.  
Zazzle shirt
True story.

I remember being engaged and blissfully thinking of the future time when I would be able to warm my feet on my super hot husband, thus enabling warmth in my limbs and sleep to overtake me much more quickly than the game of 5 pairs of socks until I can't stand the restriction of socks under covers, removing the socks one layer at a time to achieve comfort in movement only to realize it was too soon, and my feet were still too cold for comfort or sleep. 

And then we got married.
google image found here.
And then came the day when I realized that putting blocks of ice on my husband while he was trying to sleep was possibly not the best way to reach marital bliss, and so my pre-marriage dream was shattered from the cold.

As happy as I am that Fall is here, the one thing I regret is the downward spiral of the thermostat because those feet of mine will be perpetually cold again until May.

On the plus side, however, I am delighted to share with you the exciting news that I have figured out how to fight my insomnia.  The best part is, it is doing something I love.  Basically since May I have been having trouble sleeping (thank you for that, Primary calling).  At times it gets really bad.  Last week, however, by complete accident, I stumbled upon a cure.  If not a cure, at least a drastic help. If I read before bed, I fall asleep so much more quickly. Or, I can actually fall asleep.  Yay! Which is wonderful as I am really enjoying reading again.  I am in the middle of Catch-22 and part of me wishes the book would never end.  The other part of me, however is anxious for it to end so I can move on to some of my other books.  But here is the thing.  Reading, to me, is a guilty pleasure.  It is something that I don't just do, I have to make time for it.  But I have so many other things going on right now, that I don't feel I can justify a little reading.  Every time I sit down to indulge, I feel guilty.  In the back of my mind a little responsible voice is poking me and listing off all the things that I should be doing.  I find her very annoying.  Sadly for my book, though, she usually wins.

Thank you, Insomnia!  You have reunited me with my true love; the written word.
image found here

As for life, well, it keeps chugging along.  My primary program is in two weeks, so we are frantically trying to get everything prepared and ready for that.  I am not so much concerned about the program as I am with the Missionary meet and greet we are trying to organize for after.  And then there is the Christmas breakfast we are in charge of.  And getting things ready for the new year, and all that entails.

But for now, I try to just take one frozen step at a time.  I don't always succeed and then Jeffrey has to pick me up from the mess that I fell into from too much stress, or trying to take on too much at once, but at least my absolute zero feet and I can escape into the world of a good book every night in the meantime.

pinterest image here

And she lived happily ever after.

2 comments:

*Jess* said...

It has a name! Reynaud's Syndrome. Its a circulatory disorder :) I'm actually being tested for it by my neurologist.

Chantel said...

I was just coming to post Reynaud's but someone beat me to it!