I wanna hug poles of warmth forever.

Last year, I used to live in one of the on-campus apartment complexes (complexi? complexum?) owned by the college. Although they weren't equipped with air conditioning during the warm months, they did have heat for the cold months. But due to the aging of the building, it wouldn't be uncanny for there to be slight drafts through the apartment. When my roommate and I (the biffle nug who I still live with this year but in a warm duplex) would wake up for crew, the warmest place to be would be in the bathroom because there was this long pole (sorry boys, its not stripper appropriate) in the corner that must have been hooked up to the radiator in the living room somehow and it was pretty hot to the touch. One morning, I wanted to go brush my teeth. I figured Kayla was in the kitchen finding something to munch on before practice. To my surprise I see her huddled in the corner of the bathroom facing the heated pole.
"What are you doing?" I asked confused.
"I'm cold." She said.

Then I noticed how she was hugging the pole to get warm. The things people do. What's so great is that one morning she was using the bathroom before me so while I was changing in the bedroom I hear her scream from the bathroom, "Ouch!"

"What happened?" I asked upon her exiting the bathroom.
"I was hugging the pole for too long and it got really hot" she said.

WOW.

The moral of the story is this (if any moral existed for attempting to stay warm during the winter, let me know), I'm over the cold. I'm over it. Yes, it's refreshing to smell the beginning of winter and freshness that the cold can bring to the heat of late summer and early fall can bring, but I'm over it. Especially when it hurts to be outside...to the point where my fingers begin to hurt really, really bad. Ugh.