Philip the forecaster

Argentina is in the southern hemisphere. Which means (if my observations are correct) that when it's summer at home in Utah, it's winter here in Rosario. There isn't any snow, but the leaves have all changed colors and many have fallen to the ground. The Argentinians (and I along with them) walk around wearing scarves and beanies. I wear a coat almost every day and there was a point that I considered wearing it to bed. That was before our manager let me borrow a space heater from the institute building. 

When I run in the park or the walkway on Oroño Boulevard I do warm up enough that wearing a long-sleeved shirt to exercise becomes a mistake. Once my body stops moving, however, I get cold again.

Weather.com tells me it's 63°, but I'm convinced that it's not true. There is a small spot on my back between my shoulder blades that also takes the temperature. It works much like the joints of old people in movies who comment on the forecast based on the mobility of their joints. I call this spot Philip. When Philip feels cold, I can't sleep, I shiver, I tend to walk like a hunchback, and I know I'll be miserable if I don't wear a coat.

All that being said, I'd rather be a little on the chilly side than sweating in 82° and 64% humidity. Which is why I requested Argentina over, say, Panama.

I should have brought more socks.