It's times like these that I miss Florida

I reluctantly got out of the shower tonight -- and only did so because the hot water was running out. As soon as the air hit my skin, I could feel my pores, every last one of them, tighten in pain. The kind of pain that forces hair follicles to try to flee by their roots, making shaving an exercise in futility.

Tonight I tried something different: cranking my furnace to 70 before my shower. I think that made it worse. Back down to 68.

The outside temp is 13. My skin is like sandpaper, my fingertips are split open, and my hair feels like straw. I have deadly icicles dangling from my roof, a dog that hasn't pooped in days because the snow burns her paws. I'm wondering if my car will start in the morning after discovering the poor thing vomited oil all over the garage floor. My Jetta is, after all, a Florida baby like Zoe. It prefers sea salt to rock salt.

In trying to get over this winter, I've come up with a top-10 list of why I should stop dreaming of Florida:

10. Warm, bulky clothing hides my warm, bulky body.

9. I have not seen a palmetto bug in my toilet for more than three years.

8. Scarves as fashion accessories.

7. Kids dig sleds.

6. Snow-shoveling is great exercise.

5. No wondering where that lizard went after it crawled under the armoire.

4. I can actually get out of the shower and dry off, as opposed to going from damp to sweaty.

3. The mail is prompt. No more waiting three months for packages to arrive.

2. I'm totally used to sock rings now. And my sandals get time to air out.

1. Who needs sand castles when you have snow angels??