The Sauna

It's been far too cold lately. Far too cold. I don't ever remember it being this cold before in my lifetime. I remember days in my childhood walking on the ice-glazed snow in the winters, but even then, it wasn't this cold. It is imperative for me to escape this cold.

I woke up this morning to negative temperatures, as has become the norm for the past few weeks. My poor dogs. I had to drag them out by the leashes and force them to stay outside until they did their business. Frida did her usual routine of walking back and forth over the same spot, squatting down, feeling the snow hit her knee, then standing back up just to repeat this process. As usual, what should have only taken a few minutes took nearly half an hour. Half an hour, and, as usual, I did not have the foresight to put a coat on before taking them outside. What is wrong with me?

It's far too cold. Perhaps I should go to the gym and sit in the sauna. Yes. That would be lovely.

I can almost feel the heat embracing me just thinking about the sauna. The warmth of the wooden benches against my thighs. The taste of salt as sweat gathers on my lips.

Yes. That would be lovely. I believe I shall go.

***

I mask up as I enter the gym. To be honest, this is just for show. I really don't want anything bad to happen to the gym owners, so I make sure that I am wearing the mask while I sign in, but the moment I get past the front desk, I remove that damned mask.

I make a bee line to the locker room. Why do they call it a bee line, anyways? Whoever came up with that phrase obviously never saw a bee flying. Anyways, that's besides the point. Hitherto, I have been far too cold; soon, I will be far too warm. Not nearly soon enough, either.

I get undressed and wrap myself in a towel as fast as I can. I do not want to waste any time even in comfortable temperatures. Bring the heat. Bring the sweat. Bring it now.

As I open the door to the sauna, the warmth surrounds me. There's the usual less-than-sterile smell to the air, but that doesn't matter much to me at the moment. After all, I would take it smelling like urine if it meant that I could escape from the realities of our current weather.

I sit on the bench. There's no one else in here. I guess it's just not that popular at this time of the day. Or perhaps we're still seeing the general paranoia that everyone has towards that damned virus. Either way, the warmth is mine. It is mine alone.

The heat wraps me in her loving arms like a mother cradles her new born baby. I can feel the loving tears as she embraces me. Or maybe that's just my sweat. No, I prefer to believe that the warmth has tears of joy giving birth to my new found comfort. I feel so comfortable, I may as well close my eyes for a minute.

***

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! How long have you been in here?"

I can't quite focus on the face of the person yelling at me. Why are they yelling at me? I just am relaxing here in the heat. My head is swimming. Why can't I tell which way is up? Where am I again?

"Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?" he asks me.

"Two," I reply, even though I really can't make it out. Maybe if I just say a number, he'll let me go back to sleep.

"Ok, we're going to carry you out of here to get you cooled down. According to the people at the front desk, they saw you come back here over an hour ago. How much of the time were you in the sauna?"

An hour? How could this be? Perhaps the warmth wasn't a loving mother after all. Maybe that was the embrace of a constrictor, squeezing me into submission just to swallow me whole. Perhaps, but I would do it all over again. It's been far too cold; too cold. If death is heat, then I accept death's embrace.