Some prose on a chilly day

In what is a continuing trend of writing inspired by weather and the atmosphere here is something for today where it is record cold across much of the Midwest.
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Its the kind of cold that makes you think and regret. I want to get back under the covers and dwell. Stew in warmth of coming up with better response when someone was unkind to me. Of giving the guy with the guitar a dollar. Or adopting that shelter cat I saw at the pet store. At flirting back. Or not flirting in the first place. At the food left uneaten and nice email you never replied to. All the movies I've never seen and books collecting dust on a "to be read" pile. Projects left unfinished. And the chill of those bad takes doesn't compare to how cold it is outside.

Its the kind of cold that shortens cigarette breaks. Which I don't take but I am jealous others get to take in addition to what we are allowed "Hey, boss. I'm going out for a smoke."
"Oh, ok. Got it"
"Oh...boss. Can I just get some air for 10 minutes. Check my email"
"No, that is what your break is for."
But not so jealous in this cold. And eager to see some return because I need their help. Or I like looking at them from across the office. Or it is slamming even though it is cold! "Oh, hey, you are back soon. Nice"

Its a snicker snack cold that cracks heavy branches down the grain. A sharp snap and then pillowy thud into the new snow. Then then soft hiss of snowflakes nestling back onto the ground. Everything is louder and colder on a day like this. Curled into my bed I also remember hearing the muttering og my grade school custodian. Who hated blistering cold days because "the pipes." School legend had it that years ago a pipe burst shut down the school for three weeks. So you had kids gouging at plaster and brick, the same spots year from year sloughed down to divots. We were trying to get closer to the cold and snap the pipes.

I don't have proper cold weather gear. I enjoy hiking but not so much to dedicate kit to it. Albeit that is the funnest part. So, its the kind of cold that makes me dig into my closet. Find giant jeans from before I lost the weight. Put those over pajama pants, under which are a pair of basketball shorts, under which is my underwear. Then a t-shirt, baseball tee, zip up hooded sweatshirt, pull over fleece and then windbreaker (with inner fleece lining). Me and all the air pockets of insulation against the historic cold.

The cold to me is also visual both in the glittery haze over snow but the wisps of steam from errant heat. I will admit to racing out to the backyard and peeing into the fluffy mounds to see the hot smoke rise from the melted snow. Ill run the dryer and watch the agonized steam come from the vent. That is made much easier by all my layers. The urinating not so much.

But I have to race back in because the cold is most tactile in my toes. A child that globs on and lingers just where they meet the foot. Nothing cuts to the bone but it lingers which is worst about the cold because the days however short seem long and January slumbers to the horizon.