Indigo Editor’s Blog – 732
by Rachel Aroesti
When you tell your parents’ friends where you go to university, there is one reaction you can guarantee. Face contorted in pain, with a sharp intake of breath, they will proclaim: “Ohh its freezing up there!” These people have a wealth of life experience, they have traversed the lengths of our country, and they can tell you that the North East is really, really cold.
For the first year I defiantly contradicted them – convincing myself that I had found it colder returning South at Christmas. I now consider myself at that time severely delusional. Durham is very cold. And maybe I could learn to live with that. But the problem is, it’s not just outside that’s cold in Durham. In Durham, inside is cold.
This has been somewhat of a revelation for me in recent weeks. Last year I lived in a house with ‘bills included’, but this year bills are excluded (we are not allowed to have bills) and in order to fulfil this ambition we are not allowed to have heating. Three of us are quite cold. The other two aren’t so cold. Unfortunately the other two are CENTRAL HEATING NAZIS so most of the time I have to wear two coats just to sit in my room. I haven’t taken my Uggs off for so long I can’t even remember what my feet feel like when they’re not encased in sheepskin.
There are some positives though. The childish excitement that putting the heating on for an hour entails is quite sweet. As I sit here writing this, I am grateful that for the first time this week my hands are warm enough to type. And I bet you’re all pretty glad about that as well.
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