It’s cold. C-O-L-D. COLD!
The temperature on my way into work this morning was 18. Yes, 18 degrees.
Did I mention I live in Florida? Have I mentioned the heat in my office doesn’t seem to actually, I don’t know, WORK?
I get nostalgic for the Great Northeast on a pretty regular basis. I miss a lot about that area. I miss how there’s so much to do, even in the tiny little towns. I miss being closer to family and more of my friends. I miss the familiarity. Sometimes, I even think I miss the weather.
And then it hits 18 degrees here and I remember that this will probably pass by March, while it will continue through at least May in New York. And I realize that maybe — just maybe — I don’t really miss winter.
I moved to southeast Georgia in January 2005. I drove through an ice storm in North Carolina to get there. I left my mother’s house at midnight to beat a pending snowstorm. I stopped overnight in Virginia and stayed with my friend Ellen and her family. We went to the mall and I drove Ellen and her children back home because it snowed while we were there and she was afraid to drive in it. (On a side note, I didn’t realize she’d put the emergency brake on when she parked and I couldn’t figure out why the car was so difficult to drive in snow. Oops.)
The first few years, we had some cooler weather in the winters, but never anything too terrible. In the two years I lived in Georgia, I had to turn my apartment heat on for a total of two days, and then only at night. Then last winter came. By then, I was already living in Tallahassee. Last winter was a lot like this winter is turning out: Freezing cold with the possibility of snow looming (if only the air had a little more moisture).
And I’m already wishing for summer.