42. My Face!

Having your face hurt is just unpleasant in general. It’s a sentiment echoed by anyone who’s experienced the biting kiss of winter’s chill. That moment when you step outside and the cold air greets you not with a gentle whisper, but with a slap sharp enough to make you reconsider all your life choices.

It’s the kind of cold that’s not content to nip at your nose; it wants a full-on confrontation with your entire face. And as you trudge through the frosty air, you can’t help but ponder the existential question of why one chooses to live where the air seems to have a personal vendetta against human skin.