Too cold

When the weather makes me uncomfortable I whine more than usual. No, I can't be bothered going on another philosophical tantrum about stuff- that requires too much thinking. Right now the only thing on my mind  is how cold I am and how my heater is doing little to help. Cold cold cold cold cold.  As if my first world problems weren't bad enough, I now have to deal with shit like freezing to death in winter. Maslow's hierarchy of needs makes sense- if I'm too occupied with being cold I certainly don't have the energy to be overly philosophical. I wonder whether it's a good or bad thing though, when my tantrums start to look like an essay.

So I've noticed a series of popular books, called the "Fifty Shades" series. Reading the synopsis, it sounds like trashy romance- except this time I want to read it. It's that conflicting feeling, when you understand that you're probably not going to like something, but you think about reading it anyway. Like that time I read Twilight. It wasn't the best thing I've read (but it was not the worst). To say I hated it is exaggerating; I think I didn't mind it. So maybe I have an affinity for trashy romance after all? Also, Fifty Shades is under the genre of "female erotica" as opposed to "teen fiction". You can't blame me for wanting to read it, riiiiiight? I guess I'll blow another $30 on what is technically porn but "popular, published porn"? See the witty alliteration there? I'm a fucking genius.

How did I go from talking about the weather to talking about porn? Eh.