Note to self:

Don't ever wear sandals in San Francisco at night.

It doesn't matter if it's 90 degrees all day long, if you can stroll around in a skirt and T-shirt in the sunny sunshine at lunchtime, kicking up your heels and wishing there were no such thing as an office or a deadline, imagining a beach or a meadow or a grassy knoll, possibly all three at once, without any shoes at all.

That very night, and every single night ever in the history of San Francisco, it will turn into the Arctic.

Shivering is for the weak. Just suck it up and wear boots.