I have been suffering from swollen and aching knuckles on my fingers for the last three weeks or so. It started as soon as the weather got very cold, and I was assuming it was a kind of arthritis or some such. When I got to the dermatologist on Tuesday, she informed me that it was a skin condition.
"That's your skin trying to tell you your fingers are chilly. Do you have it on your toes as well?" Affirmative. "Frost bite is your skin telling you it's freezing. This is telling you it's chilly."
She went on about bad circulation, etc. Told me to get another pair of gloves to put under my gloves and to wear while I work, and then told me to be more mindful of my temperature. I spent yesterday at work realizing that my hands are basically always cold and that my job causes it. This means that I either need new hands or a new job. I know which one I'd rather have.
My hands are cold even as I type this. My index fingers look as if I've slammed them in a car door. It's bizarre to me what I am able to simply ignore. Weird. I guess this means it's off to the sporting goods store for glove liners today.

In other news, I helped my transvestite friend shop again the other day. It all happened rather by accident. We were meeting up for another reason completely, which turned into stopping off at the drug store, where I helped him figure out barrettes and makeup remover and then held them in my hands while we checked out (he paid, but it's a small town and you never know who you might run into).
We then stopped at a small boutique store. He is looking for a little black dress. The first store had nothing of the sort, and the second one, which is going out of business, had loads of things. And at 50 to 80% off, they were very nearly reasonably priced. He did not feel comfortable talking out loud there, and certainly not trying anything on, but we talked quite a bit and I got an idea what he was looking for. Next we headed over to TeeJay Max where the prices were much more reasonable. He had never been. I was looking for a bra and he came over and we discussed underpants. It never occurred to me that he might not know the difference between a bikini and a hi-cut. Also, "boy pants" were rather ironic, under the circumstances. I had no idea what to tell him about how they would fit- I mean, they will obviously fit him rather differently, right? So yeah. He took one of each, and we got a couple camisoles and some tights. When we got into sweaters and such, we would hold a sweater up to me to see how the size looked, and when it looked like it fir me we jumped up a size for him. After all this we again went to check out and again acted like it was all for me and he paid. There's something really entertaining about all of the subterfuge. Unnecessary, I think, but amusing nonetheless. And since it isn't my private life, I don't have to feel uncomfortable about it.