I Have Fingers or Winter Wonderland

On my way to the gym I realize that I forgot my gloves at home. Oh, well. I’m wearing enough layers and gym is only five blocks away.

Walking out of the gym, in my post workout smiley-high, I have a strong urge to go food shopping. Not just an urge. Refrigerator is also in desperate need of replenishment.

Ok, supermarket is pretty close, 5 minutes and I’m there, then 5-10 more minutes of outside endurance and I’m back in my boiling hot apartment. Deal. It’s been like 8 or 9 New York winters for me already… I should be plenty toughened-up by now. Hands should certainly survive the… what….15-20 degrees (that's Fahrenheit, for you Celsius speakers..)? For sure! My fingers should be well immune to mere ten naked minutes. Am NOT gonna run home just to get gloves. Decision made.

Coming out of the supermarket. Jolly. Each hand holding two relatively light shopping bags. No biggie at all. Will be home in no time.

Ooooooooo-Kayyyyyy. 60 seconds into my walk home and fingers are beginning to go on strike, i.e. freeze. Horrified I realize that on my way to the supermarket, hands were in pockets, but now it’s an impossibility since carrying groceries… Ooops.

Major tactical error.

But I’m soooo close to home. I can do this. Cab please?

One more block and I do not feel my fingers anymore. No fucking cabs. Koos Emeck!! (ask someone else what that means…).

Bursting into following mantra: “I have fingers. I have fingers. I have fingers”. I am forcing myself to come to a meditative state: “…have fingers….have fingers”.

It’s not helping. But the only choice I have right now is to continue walking. CANNOT stop! MUST NOT stop!

Walk. Walk. Walk. But I can’t. I can’t anymore. No more fingers. They froze to death. Bags feeling really really heavy all of a sudden.

%^&*####@@@%#######......

That unbearably painful second when I felt the bags were about to pull away from me and drop down, taking bloody disintegrated fingers and messy flesh with them on their way to the ground (frozen blood, wonder what that looks like), I found myself standing outside my building. I was ecstatic to see a neighbor opening the door, What a relief! Now I don't have to deal with the excruciating struggle of searching for my keys in coat pockets. But she can’t see me. I am 5 feet behind her. She can’t see me!! Where is my voice?!!!!! Up to two minutes ago I was singing out loud that I still have my fingers, but now…what happened to my voice?!!!

The door closed behind neighbor, and my salvation evaporated. I’m outside. Bags on the ground. But I CANNOT help my agonized screaming fingers travel into my coat pockets in order to get my keys! God please help me! I am praying for another neighbor to come.

No one. No one walked in. No one walked out. Miraculously I managed to pull out my keys, and I will save you the boring description of how long it took me to bring those light shopping bags into the building, through the lobby, to the elevator and into my apartment….

Cut to- I’m home!! On the verge of unconsciousness. Fingers glued to loving radiator. I make my way to the sink, letting hot water caress my hands and bring them to life again. What an enchanted sensation. Color back to fingers, I am starting to feel them again.

Frozen versus frozen, I pull out a popsicle from the freezer and crash on the couch.

You can never forget your gloves at home, says my mom’s voice from deep inside my head, and adds: I hope you’ve learned your lesson, young lady.

I have.

Happy Channuka!

Merry Christmas!