Frozen

I've lived here my entire life.  I know it gets cold in the winter.  I know it gets really cold sometimes and really, really cold a few times.

But when I see - floating before a number, something deep inside seizes up.  The fear response kicks in.  Cold is bad.  Cold is scary.  Really, really cold is deadly.  So I make plans.  I stock up.  I hunker down.  And I stay the eff inside.

Except when I don't.

Frink called on Tuesday "There are Packer tickets available.  Do you want to go to the game?"  I did a spit take.  What?  Packer tickets?  There are never, ever Packer tickets available.  Ever.  My green and gold loving heart lept.  "Heck yeah I want to go!  Buy them!"

Then I saw the weather report.  Freezing cold.  Polar vortex.  Oh.  My.  God.  I'm going to the game.  Outside.  I'm going to sit outside for 3 hours.  I am going to die.

I proceeded to freak out for the next few days.  If you saw my Facebook feed, you know what I'm talking about.  The fear kicked in.  It took root in my brain and would not let go.  I could not get over the fact that it would be that cold.  I would freeze, get frost bite, die of hypothermia or a heart attack.

I tested out my gameday outfit 3 days before the game.  I went to the store and bought more.  More clothes, more layers, something, anything to protect me.  Frink saw me freaking out.  He didn't make fun of me.  He simply said "Let me know if you don't want to go.  I need to find someone else to go with me."

I had an out.  But I never took it.  I was terrified but I was going.

So I freaked out.  I added layers and more layers.  I updated my will (because of course I'm going to die).  But I never backed out.

I settled down during the two hour drive.  I was calm during the walk to the stadium.  I was approaching happy as we stood in line.  I was excited by the time we got to our seats just as the ball kicked off.  I screamed.  I cheered my heart out.  I was sad at the end.

But I was never, ever cold.