I'm going out. I don't want to do this, I won't lie. But, although it's my choice, I can't not go. I sit here in my warm, little apartment, aware of the irony. "I'll go when it's not so freaking freezing," is just so wrong. I get to come home to a warm apartment. A hot bath. And this makes me want to cry because, where I'm going, there will be people who are telling themselves, "gotta keep moving, gotta keep warm; don't fall asleep," and I have the gall to say "I don't want to do this?"
As I write, it's 15 degrees (-8C) Fahrenheit outside with 25 mph winds. And it's only going to get colder - as cold as -29 (-34C) Fahrenheit with windchills. There are people out there with no where to go. So I'm armed with hand and feet warmers, socks, and a little food. It's not much but I've got to go.
UPDATE: I was out from 10pm until midnight last night. The good news - there weren't many people out in the wind. The bad news - there were some people out there. As I walked past a few of the 24-hour coffee shops, it seemed that they were being a little more lenient on their usual "no loitering" rules, thank goodness. Half a dozen pair of socks, hand/foot warmer sets and bus passes delivered. I finally hopped on a bus at 11:57pm when I couldn't take the cold winds any longer.