When I left my apartment this morning, the temperature (not the wind chill, the temperature) was -4 degrees.
One of the main reasons I moved here to Chicago is because I hate heat, and I swore that in exchange for non-brutal summers, I would never complain about the cold.
I lied.
I thought my eyeballs were going to freeze open when I was waiting for the train this morning, which was, not suprisingly, not too crowded. This is utterly absurd.
Fortunately, it’s supposed to warm up a bit…highs in the teens! Yeah.
I must be clinically insane to want to live here on some sort of permanent basis…