Optimisery

Feeling under the weather today, but it's hard to distinguish the effects of a cold indirectly effected by poor sleep from the direct effects of poor sleep. If it is a cold, then it shoots to hell my theory that deep freezes are healthier, since I was healthy as a horse through all those weeks and weeks of damp cold. The past three winters have been some of our best ever in terms of avoiding sickness, and they've also been some of the mildest in living memory. Hmm...

I've got a new coat (thanks, monshu!) whose capacities I'm still trying to nail down. Some days, I wore too many layers under it and got overheated, others I wore too few and felt chilly. It got me thinking: When you're cold, your body burns calories in order to stay warm. So allowing yourself to be less-than-toasty while outside would be equivalent to doing extra exercise, right? However, straining to keep warm also stresses your body and makes your more liable to get sick. So (leaving comfort aside for a moment here) where is the optimal trade-off in term of health benefits? Perhaps health-fasters have something to say about this...

On a related note, I was thinking about what lhn posted years ago about the persistence of shameful memories. There's actual research (which I can't be arsed to find) which shows that memories of humiliation are recalled more vividly than even moments of intense pleasure. Last week, I had the insight, Well, maybe the wicked schoolteachers of my past were on to something after all. Consider this: How many facts are fixed forever in your memory because of the embarrassment of getting them spectacularly wrong once? On the other hand, too much abasement would make you either give up the subject altogether or be unable to do anything with it without constantly burning from shame. Again, there must be some perfect balance between constantly cringing and never forgetting.

Preferiría no refriarme

Hoy a la estación de stir-fry Noe se mofó de mí porque yo encontría tantas dificultades con la palabra "refriar". El día previo quise decir a Luís lo que me gustaría más, pero no me atreví a pronunciar "preferiría". Hay muchas cosas que prefiero, pero creo nunca habrá nada que "preferiré". ¡Qué puñeterísima palabra, esa! Pero todo eso no me importa un higo porque hay un empleado nuevo y él es una monada. Es tan amplio con una letrina y tan cuadrado, con un bigote retinto que en un mondo más perfecto estaría haciéndome cosquillas donde no brilla el sol. *suspiro*

De todas maneras, todos hablan castellano conmigo actualmente. Hace unos días Letícia me dijo que no había creído que lo hablara yo. "¿Por qué no? le pregunté, pero habla con tanta rapidez que no entendí mucho de su repuesta aparte de la palabra "blanco". ¿Es que no ha conocido ningunos hispanohablantes de España?