Cold-ass

We’ve reached the last leg of the trip. Now we’re in Chicago and it’s really cold here: 9 F (-16 C). By the time we’d taken the unheated train into the city and waited on the corner of a windy street for the lights to change, I was so cold my hands were blue and my body was shaking.
I do not like winter anymore.* It used to be my favorite season but what was I thinking? Give me autumn or spring, please. Maybe short term extremes–a week of cold and a nice juicy snowstorm–would be OK.
*I will recognise these advantages to winter: roaring fires, hot chocolate, cuddling under the covers on a chilly morning.