Chubby people do not belong in Florida in summer.
My family moved here when I was a toothpick with eyes. I was 15, and I was so thin that I got chilly just from the breeze created by breathing.
I was the only person in my high school carrying a sweater to school—and using it.
That all changed when I hit my 30s. That whole “changing metabolism” thing kicked in, and before I knew it, I’d grown my own insulation and didn’t have to worry about layering and carrying extra sweaters. Yay!
Ah, but then the insulation grew insulation, and despite my more ample girth, I considered a membership at Paradise Lakes, the clothing-optional resort an hour or two north of here. Anything to escape the heat!
I was slapping icy cold facecloths on the back of my neck just to get from the house to the car. I was sucking on ice cubes at all hours, sleeping in front of fans, you name it.
It’s been like that for more than a few years, now. Global warming? I feel the planet’s pain.
I shed some pounds and thought the lessening of my personal insulation would keep me from feeling overheated. How wrong I was!
Ah, but today … the weather broke.
Friends who have not cracked a curtain in six months finally came out to say “hello” to their neighbors.
I walked outside this morning and didn’t rush to the comfort of my air-conditioned car for the first time this year.
The weather broke! And if anyone shows up with a wrench or screwdriver trying to fix it, we’re gonna have words!
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