![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The sun shines out of our behinds
Feb. 26th, 2004 09:50 amThe Christmas before last, a friend gave me a pair of leather driving gloves. I tried them on, thought "oooh, they're nice", and popped them in the back of a draw.
In recent weeks, I've been grumbling copiously about how chilly my hands are driving to work on a morning. Particularly before William's heating has kicked in (which usually happens about 15 minutes after starting driving), the steering wheel is uncomfortably cold to touch.
Today I finally put these two facts together. The gloves are nicely grippy for holding a wheel, and the holes over the knuckles mean that bending your hands is much easier than you'd expect from leather gloves. Y'know, you'd almost think they were designed for the job. And I had toasty warm hands all the way to work.
Besides, Frances tells me they look cool, and decided to call me Scary Matrix Lady. To be honest, I'm not at all convinced about the ensemble of brown leather gloves and a bright red fleece, but there you go.
The only downside appears to be that the gloves, when we got to work, had shed bits of insidey-leatherness all over my hands. At least, that's my story. The others insisted it's the first stage of me turning into a gorilla. Apparently it always starts with the hands. I await developments there.
In recent weeks, I've been grumbling copiously about how chilly my hands are driving to work on a morning. Particularly before William's heating has kicked in (which usually happens about 15 minutes after starting driving), the steering wheel is uncomfortably cold to touch.
Today I finally put these two facts together. The gloves are nicely grippy for holding a wheel, and the holes over the knuckles mean that bending your hands is much easier than you'd expect from leather gloves. Y'know, you'd almost think they were designed for the job. And I had toasty warm hands all the way to work.
Besides, Frances tells me they look cool, and decided to call me Scary Matrix Lady. To be honest, I'm not at all convinced about the ensemble of brown leather gloves and a bright red fleece, but there you go.
The only downside appears to be that the gloves, when we got to work, had shed bits of insidey-leatherness all over my hands. At least, that's my story. The others insisted it's the first stage of me turning into a gorilla. Apparently it always starts with the hands. I await developments there.
