I’m not shy, or quiet, about my distaste for cold weather. It’s a frequent topic in this blog. Read any post from November-March, and you’re bound to see multiple entries where I bemoan the cruelty of cold temperatures, threaten lawsuits against the winter season, muse about drinking myself into a stupor until May, and make seemingly sincere promises about bearing children someday—if the temps will hit 70 FOR JUST ONE BLESSED HOUR.
I’ve finally settled on a solution.
I’m going to move back to the West Coast. This will hopefully occur before the winter season of 2010 officially finishes me off and plasters my frozen remains to a sidewalk. That means my liver and I need to somehow make it through these last few months of The Winter of ’09. If we make it till spring, I think I’ll be lucid enough to begin my job search somewhere on the coast of Southern-ish California. I’ll spend the spring and summer thawing out, and will hopefully secure a job somewhere far west and south of here before the leaves begin their descent off the trees.
I will also make myself a T-shirt that says “I survived 3 WINTERS IN NORTH CAROLINA.”
I’ll wear it proudly, with flip-flops, next December, as I prance around in shorts.
Perusing El Internet-o today, I stumbled across a site that calculates how far your current salary would go in a different city. Depressingly, housing costs are 230% higher in San Diego and Southern LA.
Which means I’ll be living in a cardboard box next year.
No matter. Additionally, the site also informed me that to maintain my current standard of living in So. Cal, I’ll need to make approximately $30k more than I’m currently raking in.
So my choices are to either auction myself off as a mail-order bride to a rich Southern Californian or move in with my parents.
At this point, either of those options sounds quite appealing, because I’m quite convinced I can’t possibly take another winter out here. *
*And that, my friends, is proof that 2 ½ years in North Carolina has not taken the Californian out of this Ice Pop.