For years, almost a decade, really, my biggest pet peeve was air conditioner settings in common environments, ranging from buses, trains, and supermarkets to offices. I am always cold. Temperatures below 24 degrees make me uncomfortable, anything below 22 downright frozen. Most people seem to run on a different scale to mine though, and after a majority rules principle the rooms I work and travel in feel arctic to me.
“How about an electric blanket? You could line your chair with it.” was a loving suggestion I received after I mentioned, nay, ranted about the issue. Without even properly thinking about it, I countered with some old wives’ tale of how electric blankets cause spontaneous self-combustion.
I smile when I recall this conversation and am in awe of my conversation counter who knew how nonsensical my argument was but recognized that I couldn’t see it in any other way in the space that I was in and just let the topic go, leaving my head to sit with it.
The me then, still wearing steel capped boots, was too afraid to think so far outside the box. “What would people think?” – even though those precise words never crossed my mind. In my head, I was a strong, fierce woman who would not give quarters and who could face all storms head on. I firmly believed in the image I tried to project towards the world. So my rather beautiful mind had to come up with a logical, scientific explanation as to why this could not be an option.
Of course I don’t care about the opinion of others! But see, those blankets, they really are dangerous…
Turned out, the first steps of my journey had already softened the lid I used to place over anything labelled feelings. Because another week of frozen feet, sniffling nose and generally feeling sick had me looking up electric blankets online. Google thus revealed the existence of heated jackets and small electric blankets. The jackets, while totally and exactly what I wanted (no one would even notice there’s heating inside!), were quite out of my price range, but the blankets were affordable enough. So enthused by my research success, I went and ordered one, received it in the mail and brought it to work.
Where it lived in a drawer for the rest of the winter.
Some mornings, when I was the first one in I would opened the drawer, but looking at the bright blue colour of the cover, the bulky switch and long unruly cable I stopped mid motion. “Ah, it’s not gonna be that cold today.” Was the thought that I consciously formed to justify my action. But if I am honest, it was more that the idea of my colleagues coming in and immediately noticing the blanket made me uncomfortable, cringey, ashamed, all of the above. I couldn’t have put it in those words then, but I was not liking myself and my wellbeing more than the opinion of others of me.
It took another summer of growing, loosing the steel caps, before the blanket got to shine. On the first cold day of the next winter, I got into the office and just pulled it out. Draped it over my legs, switched it on and revelled in the slowly spreading warmth. I didn’t even think twice about it. It’s there, I’m cold – use it.
The reactions I so feared the year before – well, they did happen, but believe it or not, I didn’t even die. There was and is some ridicule send my way, but I found that it is laced with mixtures of envy, grudging admiration and genuine joy.
Fast forward another year and I am well known as the lady rocking Ugg boots and electric blankets – and I love it.
I genuinely like the me who cares about toasty toes, a non-sniffly nose and the joy of my soul. I also like the me who has a no more aggravation, frustration and uncomfortableness about her temperature feeling pent up – come to think of it, it has been over a year that I ranted, you know, the unhealthy angry helpless frustrated aggressive kind.
Steel Caps to Uggs 