I checked the weather report on my iPhone this morning, like I do every morning. The high was under 70 degrees, and I thought, perfect. I could wear a long-sleeved shirt, slacks, and a blazer – the semi-professional look needed for the audition I’d be attending later.
Most mornings, the iPhone report shows 72 degrees or higher. My wardrobe choices are limited on those days. I don’t consider this a problem, though, because I enjoy being warm. I’d rather be warm than look good. Honestly, I would.
I work in a production center with a lot of other production companies. My office is next to the writer’s room for a prime time TV show, and we share a thermostat. Apparently, they like to be cold while they lob ideas across a room at each other. They crank the air up, and I sit in my office, watching frost form on my computer screen.
If I have an additional layer with me, then great. I’m comfortable. Really, a blazer or cardigan are in order any day at my office. But on warm days, as soon as I leave the office, beads of sweat form on my forehead instantly – for LA sun does not shine agreeably upon layers.
Yet, I prefer to be outside. Always, in any weather, prefer to be outside, and if I can’t be outside, then I want to be moving, rather than sitting. Want to be on location, or on a set, rehearsing, blocking, performing.