Share This Post

It’s cold. Really, terribly fucking cold.

Why did I want to move up to Atlanta again? They have, like, real seasons here, and I’m not sure I’m up to the idea that it could possibly snow where I live. I mean, the last time it snowed in St. Marys was in 1989, and it hadn’t snowed for 60 years prior to that. At that point, I’d just moved from Connecticut, so it wasn’t a big deal to me, but you should have seen how quick the whole county shut down.

And yes, I hear all of y’all Northerners snickering right about now. Shut up. I did my time in the Great White North, and I don’t think I’ll ever feel the need to live up there again. Seeing snow on the beach in Rhode Island, and morons out there having a party was more than enough to let me know that I was in the wrong climate.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Nanowrimo 2023 Writer badge
writing

Na-Na-Nanowrimo Time

The first day of November has always been a world of extremes for me regarding writing, thanks to National Novel Writing Month, lovingly referred to

writing

Trying not to Jinx Everything

Y’all – remember when we went outside without worrying about, ya know, the whole global pandemic? Back then, I was full of hope that 2020