It’s a thousand degrees below zero today (okay not exactly, but frigidly close,) and apparently I felt as though a t-shirt and scarf would suffice in confronting the elements while I warmed up the car this morning. As soon as I stepped outside, I was greeted by an unforgiving arctic blast of chilly wintry air, freezing my golden brown nipples on contact. Instant nippsicles. It’s windy AND freezing. Two things that singularly can be managed, but together, form an unrelenting blizzard of icy polar wind instantly freezing all exposed flesh, including poorly protected nipples (regardless of their perfect light brown hue).
I absolutely hate the cold, and now I’m pissy. Not a good start to my day. The only thing I hate more than frozen nipples (and 29 year old unregistered sex offenders posing as 12 year old boys enrolling in school to prey on children), are dentists. Dentistry, as you may know, happens to be the profession with the highest suicide rate (it’s statistically suspected anyway). Mine was not elated when I told him this. Even though I’m not going to the dentist today, (unfortunately I do think he is still alive), I am still stuck with the numbing dilemma of my frozen teats. If men can have such things.