Last Time I Checked, I Was Still Living In South Florida

Can't really tell by the temperature, though. (Look - the parrots have been forced to use heat lamps in their tropical zoo. Brr!)

On my drive to work this morning, the temperature was 36 degrees. It was even colder overnight. The heat has been on in our apartment for the past week, allegedly to keep Hydra and Styx comfortable (hello - Styx is from Africa), but really because our NY blood truly has thinned and Tim and I are freezing. I have exhausted my supply of sweaters. Cold weather in Florida is only supposed to last a week and it is never supposed to dip below freezing!

AND. . .

The cold weather seems to make South Floridians, on the whole, very cranky.

Example:

On the elevator this morning (and if you are a long-time reader of The Pickle Tree, you already know my pet peeves involving elevators) I was joined by three other women and a jerk (excuse me, gentleman) in a leather jacket, gloves and a beanie. A last-minute rider requested the second floor. After she had exited and the doors had closed, the jerk announced, "I bet the two flights of stairs would have killed her."

I see absolutely no reason for this kind of nastiness. Who are we to judge anyone? Where is the cutoff? It is acceptable to use the elevator to get to the third floor and above, but not the second? Why?

So of course, even though two wrongs don't make a right, I couldn't resist.

"Well, it looks like the four flights might have done you some good."

I blame it on the 36 degrees.