I'm a giant wuss. When I was younger, I took great pride in my ability to weather bad weather. At Syracuse -- one of the coldest places in America -- I rarely wore a winter jacket. I would merely layer up under a fleece and walk to class.
After college I moved to LA where it's, well, a lot warmer than anywhere I had ever lived before. Over the years, whenever I'd visit home, I started to notice that I was colder than I had been in the past. My body was acclimating to warm weather.
After living in Vietnam, I'm downright pathetic. I've been freezing since I came home. Granted the weather has been less than stellar on the east coast but I've been wearing layers nearly every day. Last night I wore a t-shirt, a button down shirt and a hooded sweatshirt (although after walking 15 blocks and 5 avenues I took off the sweatshirt).
Everyone in New York seems to be praying for good weather. Well, I'm praying to the sun god too because I crap-you-not, I'm a week away from pneumonia.