Sometimes I think I’m going through The Change a little early. I’ll be sitting at my desk, minding my own business, writing an e-mail or working on an Excel chart or whatever and the next thing you know, I’m sweating my ass off. So I strip down (I ALWAYS layer at my office–I’ve learned my lesson!). Sweater comes off. I’m good.
I sit there, typing away in my t-shirt then, out of nowhere, I’m freezing. Sweater goes back on. Then comes the extra office sweatshirt. Then (and this why I love that my co-worker handles accesories) comes the gloves (fingerless, so I can still type), the scarves, and on the really cold days the hat. There is also our secret weapon, but we’ve been told it’s a fire hazard and we’re not allowed to use it, so I’ll just leave it at that.
The chattering of my teeth subsides and I regain the feeling in my fingers. Slowly, the layers come off. The hat, scarf and gloves. The extra sweatshirt. The sweater. The sweater goes back on a few minutes later when I realize it’s still freezing, but it stays open, to allow for ventillation. This seems to help.
By the end of the day, I’ve had 19 variations of my outfit–including changing the hair from up (during the hot streaks) to down (to try and cover my neck) back to up (partly b/c it’s hot again and partly b/c it’s kinked from being up earlier). I leave the office one sleeve pushed up, the other rolled down, the sweater half-unbuttoned, all in the efforts to avoid these weird work hot flashes and to find a way to keep myself from either freezing or melting.
For the last 4 months, it’s been an ice box in the office. My cute summer skirts–wasted. My adorable little sundresses–wasted. I spent the summer in jeans and tees, with sweaters in my bag and deoderant in my desk drawer (you try walking to work when it’s 95 with 73% humidity and NOT sweating).
It’s just not fair. All summer I stared longingly at my tanks, skirts and sandals, knowing full well that if I wore them, I would be a icicle by the end of the day (but risking it anyway when it came to the sandals). And now? Now that I’m ready for my sweaters and my boots? All my old fall friends? Now it is 9000 degrees in the office, plus it’s as dry as the Sahara (I’ll be rocking the specs all winter, just so I can see my screen).
This is, in every sense of the word, not cool.
*Happy (belated) birthday to Mama B and happy bloggy birthday to a lovely blog! Jamie’s celebrating it, Etsy style!*