I’ve been in Ireland for five months now and truly love it. It’s a great experience! I have lots of fun and friends and work is going well. But there is something that no one prepared me for, something that I can honestly say I in no way thought about.
It’s real. And it’s a problem.
Ireland is slightly cooler than my home. I am from Georgia, a southern state with bellow freezing temps to hellishly hot weather. Today back home it was 65 degrees. (Yes, I am American, and I believe in Fahrenheit. Come at me.) Here in not so sunny Ireland, it’s a cool but not freezingly cold 47 degrees ish (give or take 5 either way). That’s really not terrible, but it comes at a cost.
Shaving my legs has become a thing of World War III magnitude, an ensuing battle between leg hairs and cold temperatures. Our shower is run by an electric heater so there is plenty of warm water, but I live in a Georgian Housethat was built roughly 300 years ago. There is no insulation in the walls, the doors and windows leak arctic air into the house, and there is no and I mean ZERO central heating. Our bathroom is left to the temperature of whatever it feels like. And about 97% of the time, it feels cold.
So when I get a shower and shave my legs, I step out of the warm steam induced corner I created and into a world that feels like the Arctic Circle (Trust me, I’ve been there! ). My leg hairs grow back in an instant. It’s the most frustrating thing on the entire planet! I know we were blessed with the natural ability to grow a fur like substance to keep ourselves insulated, but dammit, I don’t want to have to go through a pack of razors a week!
Luckily, Irish fashion allows me to wear black tights to work everyday, so when I skip a day or two in the battle that is goosebumps, no one knows. (Except now it would seem that I have told the world.) Either way, this situation cannot be solved. It is a battle which frankly, the climate will win. I am merely a bystander hoping and praying for warmer temperatures sooner than later.