(This is an updated post from a previous blog.)
The first thing I notice when I awaken Sunday morning is my suntan, which has cracked in 20 places and now rests in pieces next to me. This happens every autumn when the temperature abruptly drops overnight. It’s my body’s version of falling leaves. I hate it.
Here’s a complete list of reasons to like cold weather:
Wanna see it again?
I hate cold weather. Passionately.
Inevitably, when the first cold snap strikes south Florida, people will beam with pleasure. “Isn’t this terrific?” they’ll say. “Finally, a break from the heat!”
I respectfully suggest they go the hell back where they came from and pound icicles up their asses. There’s weather like this all the time up north in New Wingland and Minneysoda and Walla Walla Washington. It’s called spring.
The #1 reason people cite for relocating to Florida is the weather. This is bullshit. They HATE Florida weather. They spend 10 months of the year huddled behind hermetically sealed windows and doors blasting their air conditioning. They keep their houses, offices, and cars so frigid they could hang meat. They hate the heat. They fear the sun. They hate to sweat.
My house doesn’t even have a single air conditioner. I LIKE heat and humidity. I LIKE it when my whole house is over 90 degrees. I LIKE to sweat in my sleep. Me, I LIKE Florida weather. You don’t, do you. You just say you do.
When everybody else in the region opens their windows, we’re cranking ours shut. The blankets will come out tonight. The tequila bottle will rest undisturbed in the freezer, replaced by warming amber Jack Daniels. The cold bitch winter has announced herself.
So I’m miserable today and tomorrow; in fact, I’m miserable all damn winter. Whenever it drops below 80, I’m cold. And I fucking hate being cold. The next person who asks me how I like this terrific refreshing weather gets a lunger in the face. “Have a nice day,” I’ll say, cordially.
Global warming? Bring it on. It can’t happen soon enough.