When Comfort and Cold Collide

I check my phone’s weather app. It’s -6℉, with a windchill of -23℉. I slide open the patio door and stick out my head. I shiver as icy fingers of cold air assault me. Brrr…that stings! I shut the slider and retreat to safety. 

The predicted Arctic Chill has arrived. 

The phone beeps, displaying a notification: “It’s busy right now if you want to Door Dash.” Sure.  

Better put on another layer, two won’t be enough. My mind engages in a lively debate. Do I have to do this today? Do I have to go out in the cold? It’s dangerous out there. I’m going to freeze. It’s cozy and warm here. I don’t want to leave.

Visions of a lush tropical island with an azure blue lagoon, swaying coconut trees and bikini-clad babes flood my mind. What I wouldn’t give to be there right now! 

I drain my coffee, enjoying the comforting liquid warmth as it trickles down my throat. Pecan Praline, a new flavor, it’s so good. I need more. My stomach rumbles. I forgot breakfast. I can’t deliver food to people when I’m hungry, can I?

I microwave a package of instant oatmeal and refill my cup. Now, about those people waiting for food. They’re not going out in the cold today, are they? Are they lazy or what? Maybe they should go out and get their food themselves.  

That’s ridiculous. I’m the one being lazy here. 

I know what I should do. I need to work. I need to be brave and strong–get out there and make some money, bring people their food–but my resolve dissolves with the passing seconds. Nope, I’m staying right here, snug as a bug in my toasty little apartment. I’ll let brave souls more heroic than me battle the monster cold. 

I eat my oatmeal and rinse the bowl in the sink. Coffee in hand, I head to the living room, place the cup on the coffee table, and turn on the faux fireplace. I sink into the sofa, wrapped in the burgundy velour comforter, turn on my e-reader, and travel to a land far away.