— 9th January 2003
God, it’s cold. I was freezing this morning. I was so cold. I had to get up and have a shower and I could hardly stick a toe out of the bed.
It’s almost like deep within there’s a hibernation instinct which still kicks in when it’s that cold. As the alarm was bleeping away and my concious mind was realising the reality of the time and situation, I could feel a power greater than myself urging me to stay in bed. My body felt so heavy like I was being held down.
I got up in the end and dragged myself into the bathroom, feeling all the radiators on the way and cursing myself for stupidly not giving them at least 3 hours on the timer to warm themselve before getting up time. The warmth of the shower did no more than to remind the bits of my body (that’s about 80%) that weren’t directly under the nozzle how cold they really were.
Getting dry was the worst though. Forced for a damp period to stand without duvet, clothing or even the stream of water for warmth, drying myself furiously I found the only thing which made me feel better was to utter a burst of “oo oo oo” noises. I haven’t a clue why this made any difference but I felt compelled to do it and probably looked like some crazed baboon, standing hopping from one foot to the other.
I requested that “She Who Understands The Timer” should rectify things so I will wait and see whether the radiators have enough time to prepare themselves for me tomorrow morning.