I Hate Winter

With this weekend’s pending storm on the horizon, I think it’s time for my annual winter declaration.

Drum rollllllllllll🥁 …

I HATE winter.

I hate everything about it. I’m just not made for this season—which is ironic, since I was born in February, making me a winter baby.

I hate the cold.

I have Hashimoto’s disease, and one of the many side effects of this autoimmune condition is body temperature dysregulation. In the summer, I overheat easily. In the winter, I’m forever freezing—no matter how many layers I have on.

To compound this problem, like many #HashisGirlies, I also have Raynaud’s disease. Talk about next-level cold. If I go outside (or spend too much time in the freezer section at the grocery store), my toes and fingers go numb and turn white or blue because of limited blood flow. When I come back inside, they turn red and start burning as if they’re on fire. It sucks.

So that’s one reason why I hate winter: the cold.

I hate the snow.

Snow requires shoveling, and I hate shoveling—or maybe I should say my back hates shoveling. We’ve had two snow storms already this season, and that’s two too many if you ask me. I’ve reached my quota.

Snow also means my car is covered in a dusty, dirty powder all the time. And so are my coats, since I inevitably (and accidentally) rub up against it. I do not like to be dirty.

And lastly, I’ll add that snow on the ground usually means there are fewer parking spaces at the gym and grocery store (the only two places I really ever go). I know this is just a minor inconvenience, but it’s still annoying.

So that’s the second reason I hate winter: the snow.

I hate the ice.

Five words: ice melt stains wood floors.

This is probably my own hangup, I’m sure. But I despise when those ice melt pellets are tracked inside and leave white stains on my wood floors. Granted, we’re a shoes-off house so it’s limited to the doorway, but it’s still a mess (that apparently only I see).

Then there’s the fact that ice is slippery and I’m old. I have osteoporosis. My bones are like Swiss cheese. Last year, I tripped on a tree branch and cracked a rib. I can only image what would happen if I slipped on ice.

So reason three why I hate winter: the ice.

I hate the sports.

Sledding, skiing, snowboarding … None of it is for me. Snowboarding is way too intense. I’m too old to go sledding. Skiing is too fast and scary. And I Iack the balance and grace required for figure skating. (Although I do enjoy the occasional outdoor ice skating excursion, if the elements are just right—read: mild weather and no other people … so basically never).

I will admit there is one exception: ice hockey. I have two nephews who play, and I enjoy watching them, so I guess that’s something.

So other than ice hockey, reason number four why I hate winter: the sports.

I hate the clothing.

This one’s not entirely true. I actually love wearing leggings and a big cozy sweater or warm hoodie. Even my matching sweats sets are perfect winter wear.

But dressing for winter weather also means looking like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man in a big, bulky coat, donning a wool hat that flattens my hair and makes it static-y, and wearing ugly snow boots that don’t match any of my outfits. Yuck!

So with the exception of cozy sweats, the last reason why I hate winter: the clothes.

Don’t get me wrong. There is something beautiful about freshly fallen snow. Where I live, it can look like a winter wonderland at times.

And I can appreciate that beautiful aesthetic … From inside. Where it’s warm and safe. It’s when I have to go outside that it becomes a problem.

I’m self-aware enough to know that much of my distaste for winter is steeped in my quick irritation to small inconveniences and minor annoyances. But in my defense, I do have Hashi’s, Raynaud’s, and osteoporosis, so the winter struggle is real.

I guess the silver lining is that we have a brand new furnace as of last month, and I actually remembered to call for a propane fill up this week. Winter storm be damned!