This morning I tried to walk my dog and discovered that the atmosphere had changed. Our recent walks constitute a pleasant ritual with gentle temperatures, squeals, squeals, and airs of cheerfulness and miraculousness.
However, this time, the familiar humidity bushes descended on a nearby block. oh. What a disaster.
A neighbor slept through the past with his fitness walk.
“The party is over,” he declared, huffing and shiny. In very few words, I knew exactly what he meant. At that moment he and I were one soul.
While it may not seem very unified as humanity in 2025, we in Tampa Bay remain connected in a sacred way. We share a bond that the polarization of society’s broadest hot potatoes is untouched.
We are about to get very wet.
I’m wet! I’m wet! I’m wet! I’ll always be wet for the next 8 months. Wet, moist, dull, soaked, soaked, steamed, sultry, soaked, all steamed like a bowl of microwave broccoli. He has starred in a body horror film called “Helter Swellter.” (Please send me your pun, please.)
In April, people from other parts of the country are defrosting and enjoying a small spring shower ahead of the flowers in May. Meanwhile, we Floridians are strengthening our spirits for daily thunderstorms, doing nothing to reduce the humidity by 1,000%. And uh, hurricane.
With this spirit of unity, Floridians must activate our habits. Keep the heather grey pieces so that Bostonians preserve seasonal turtlenecks. We minimize three outfits per day and throw a set of old old rags to the unnamed disruptor.
We try to solidify our artistry by trying to put together all sorts of powder products and cosmetic setting sprays on the market.
If you encounter a vinyl sheet, choose to stand.
If you are invited to a hug, we offer a knuckle dup in the distance.
Even if you wear glasses, you will be blinded by fog.
Babies, bags and basketballs glide from our arms. Pets smell like they emit through a once bright and airy winter home. “Someone spilled a comcha on the rug,” shouts before realizing it’s coming from a sad-eyed dog on the tile next to an unsolved bacon snack.
We believe that the appearance is overestimated and that the serotonin effect of the nuclear reactor mentioned above is necessary to offset prolonged or looming depression. This is fun! We play music on steel drums and tell ourselves that it’s not wet, it’s just shining.
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And this is the darkest part. The only way we can escape from the ominous water that leaps from our own body is to plunge into the water body. Yes, continue, laugh. It flops into swimming lagoons, natural waterways, and plastic lawn pools, swaying like an inner tube that has leaked out. I leave the water, somehow I shower with more water and find a relief in my blackened, artificially cool bedroom.
Then you wake up covered in sweat. And we have more in common than ever before.
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