The cold came like a sharp slap in the middle of the night. I had to scramble for blankets I should have broken out during the night. I'm never prepared for winter. It usually falls on me like the side of a mountain, shaking me awake with its rumble and crash.
I don't hate the season until later when it wears out its welcome and won't go away, but I don't love it either. We sort of live for months like begruding bed fellows, each of us nudging the other for more room.