It feels a little odd to complain about the Brisbane cold given what many other parts of the world have endured temperature-wise recently. All the same, the change in the weather has twisted about as fast as the month did, meaning less daylight and a nipping air that makes my walk home by the river a little painful.
I've never been the biggest fan of the cold. I prefer warmer months - early rising suns and kicking back in swimming pools. I like that comfort of summer, and the way a deep breath seems to coat my insides. The cold really has the opposite effect, and it leaves me pink nosed and curling my fingers into a twisting palm.
Worst of all though is that the cold is ultimately a change in routine. I'm waking up in pitch black to start writing and arriving home in it after work. The shrinking of my sunlight hours is unsettling at best, and makes me tireder than I usually would be.
So I'm bound for a rethink. A reworking of, well, working hours. Hopefully I can find a pattern that sticks before winter actually starts.
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