Can Life, Uh, Find a Way?
a tale of two realities
I sit next to the heater, wishing it was safe to put my feet on it. My Florida blood is still not used to a cold winter, and although it’s nice to be able to wear sweaters and boots instead of short sleeves and flip flops, I prefer to have my blood circulate freely throughout my body, and not to stop flowing before it reaches my toes.
Big contrast to last summer, spraying myself with water almost as warm as the room for little relief; too hot to exist and too poor to run the tiny portable A/C unit all day.
Florida is much more temperate than you would think. Having spent last summer in Portland, suffocating in a tiny studio apartment while the temperatures were hovering around 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40.5 Celsius), I know what I’m talking about. Florida at least has sea breezes, but Portland was straight up hell. For many reasons.
Florida has its own version of hell at the moment, which is why I don’t live there anymore. I miss it.
But where is it safe now? Look at what’s happening.
Hurricanes. Wildfires. Earthquakes. Floods. Heat. Blizzards.
The whole world seems to have been caught in a maelstrom of intense heat and storms and terrifying weather and apocalyptic predictions.
