
Note: I’ve never seen Game of Thrones, but I’m pretty sure the title is a reference to it.
When I was a kid, I used to watch my dad plow driveways and parking lots. He’d
be out in the middle of a blizzard, wearing a sweatshirt (at most), carving out
huge scoops of snow and heaving them over his shoulder. In moments like those,
I thought he was a true-to-life superhero. So naturally it’s no shock that I
inherited his lust for needless feats of masculinity and macho-ness. As fall
turned to winter every year, I’d resist transitioning to a more
climate-conscious wardrobe, clinging on to my T-shirts and basketball shorts
until it was borderline painful. I chose to “brave” some of the
coldest, snowiest winters in Boston
history
wearing only a UMass hoodie and some well-worn jeans. And even when I wasn’t
being unnecessarily obstinate, I still spent four years with a roommate who
loved keeping the windows open on frosty nights, and that’s basically like
sleeping outside, right? I’m well-aware that these weren’t the smartest
decisions, but there is an upshot: I was, without realizing it, conditioning
myself for my current situation.