The winter of my discontent

As my relaxation time was interrupted last night by the upstairs neighbor dropping cuss bombs and stomping around like a 2-year-old (he’s my age), something occurred to me.

I’ve been focusing on getting out of South Florida. But the truth is, I am perfectly fine and happy here. It’s people like HIM who need to hit the bricks, not me.

It’s been chilly lately. I ran down to Senor Burrito for takeout last night and it was 63 degrees. I was in a summer dress and flip-flops and my lone hoodie and I was COLD.

Picture me back up north in the snow. Go on. Remember how many times I fell on my ass on the ice because I will only wear dress boots with my dresses. Keep in mind I am short and pants never fit right so it’s skirts or bust.

Yeah. Not pretty.

So, it was an interesting moment for me. My idea of escape is to REALLY escape. Like, “turning in my citizenship card” escape. When all I really need is a big fat reprieve from shitheads.

Is there such a thing? Because, that’s got to be my goal. Not running away from what makes me happy. Because, believe it or not, I am generally a happy and lucky soul. You only get to hear about the shitheads here. And I’m really tired of giving them airtime.

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