I suppose it has something to do with age, but each year the journey toward winter solstice seems a little more daunting. As the days get shorter and my workday starts in the dark and ends in the dark, and I have to bundle up to survive the 45 second commute from my home to my office, I really start to wonder if I’ll survive another one. Winter that is.
I didn’t used to be such a woose, but now I really rejoice in the fact that we’ve reached the bottom of the pit, winter solstice, and the days are getting longer (albeit only by a few minutes a day). If I was a life insurance underwriter determining my own mortality, a week before winter solstice I would probably decline myself. I’m not suicidal or anything. It just, as I mentioned, seems that actual survival is a legitimate question.
A week after solstice (today), I would be a little more aggressive in my underwriting. I suspect that at this point there could be as high as a 30% chance of survival. Could have been higher, but the low last night was -10. At the end of January the whining has generally softened and the survival rate could be as high as 90-95%, unless there’s one of those arctic express things happening. By March I am finally confident of survival.
Then they change the time which kind of jacks with my attitude for a while. Whoever thought up that daylight savings thing should be forced to sit on one of our Colorado peaks naked all winter……just because.
Bottom line. While I am blessed to be very good at some things like life insurance, I am a woose extraordinaire when it comes to short days and cold weather.