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Comeuppance for one

February 12, 2010

My plan for a while was to take over a student lease and live in Athens from January until July or so, and in doing so I knew I would be subjecting myself to the harsh, humid summers of the southeast. I’m not built for the summer. I’m hairy and don’t look good in revealing clothing. I sweat gallons. My arches aren’t strong enough to support my feet in sandals for too long, and my spirits aren’t free enough to leave my apartment barefoot. For me, the summer is a sweaty haze of discomfort.

I figured the tradeoff would be a milder winter. If the summer is warmer, so too must be the winter, right? And so far, this has been the case: it’s been a bit rainy, but it’s gotten over 40 degrees every day I’ve been here, compared to the single digit temperatures and double digit snowfall my friends up north have been getting for the last week or two. As anyone would in my position would do, I have spent this time taunting my Yankee friends with my meteorological fortune, sparing no one regardless of their degree of cabin fever.

So it’s only fitting that when I looked out my bedroom window today, I saw this:

No, it’s not that bad. It’s still coming down, but it doesn’t appear to be sticking to the roads, and when all is said and done there probably won’t be more than inch of accumulation anywhere. This will affect my life in no tangible way.

Symbolically, though, what the hell, man? Is this Georgia or Siberia? Am I Faust? Or just one of these southern pussies who can’t handle snow?

UPDATE: Come on. 12 hours later, and it’s still snowing. This isn’t quite the blizzard they got back home, but it’s legit.


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