MerrinDonahue.com

This realization hit me yesterday while we were running errands. Now, I come from a state where there is some semblance of seasons passing. Sure, Texas summers SEEM endless, but, inevitably, winter does indeed come knocking (usually in the form of an annoying ice storm). This time last year, I was marveling at the novelty of being able to jump in the pool in November; I loved the idea of wearing shorts in January. This year, however, I think I’ve finally acclimated to the climate here in sunny Florida, and by acclimated, I of course mean become a huge wuss.

Now, if the temperature dips below 70 {gasp!} my skin dries out like I’m living in the Arctic. I feel like I need to break out the space heater. And don’t even get me started on how long I’ve been looking for my mittens, which I know I never unpacked last year. Seriously. Mittens.

People tell you that Florida cold is a brutal cold, that it somehow feels colder. I laughed at every single person that told me that….until I moved here, at which point I discovered that if it’s 50 degrees outside it feels like I should be heading down the slopes.

It’s 48 outside right now. We would have had our windows open back in Texas. Here? I’m wishing desperately for a fireplace and some hot cocoa. Yep. I’m a big old wuss.