So the very adult activity of house shopping has me thinking. I don’t like Florida. I never have and I likely never will. It is not only hot, but steamy. Incredibly steamy. Turn your shower on full blast hot and stand there for 20 minutes and you might, just might get some idea of what 9 months of the year in this paved-over swamp feels like. Did I mention the gators and snakes? I’ve ranted before about all the other denizens that this state attracts. Many come here from colder climates to find Margarittaville (TM). The smart ones go back home after they scratch off the polish on that dream.

Unlike so many Floridians, I was born here. OK, technically my family lived in Georgia, but they had to cross the border to get to the closest hospital and less than 3 years later we permanently settled here. Aside from 18 months post college in Atlanta, I’ve called this state home all my life. What comes with that is the knowledge that so many people I care about are here in Florida and they fail to see the grimy underbelly I do. Most have no intentions of leaving.

So do I buy a house knowing I’m stuck here for the time being? Eventually the ability to leave will fade away and not too far behind that the desire probably will too. I know no place is perfect, but I haven’t felt the warm and fuzzies here in a long time. Maybe it’s the fact that the whole thing will likely being under water in my lifetime. So keep driving your Hummers people. I just hope we all get off this finger before the polar bears wash up on the shore of Orlando.