Once upon a time there was a girl who spent most of her growing up years in Minnesota. She took great pride in having an extensive collection of cozy sweaters and an excellent tolerance to cold.
Yeah, she was no doubt quite an annoying person to be around sometimes.
Then she moved to the DC area, where she spent the next 25ish years experiencing a true four season climate. Yes, it would get cold in the winter, but generally only in the winter and everything would get canceled if it snowed at all, so they could stay warm and cozy at home. Yes, it was hot and sometimes miserably humid in the summer, but only in the summer. And Virginia falls and the springs were glorious and long! She got spoiled.
Then they moved to Utah and she quickly realized that Utah winters, though not as cold as Minnesota's, were not as wimpy as they had been in her memories. The Utah springs and falls have moments of intense glory, but they get overshadowed by winter a whole heck of a lot more often than she remembered. And somewhere during those ensuing years, her aging body seemed to have lost all tolerance to temperatures below about 75°. I think that, perhaps, she just used up that tolerance in the first 18 years of her life.
So what happens when that completely cold-intolerant, done-with-winter girl wakes up on April 18th to a sight like this?
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