I’m not sure if you’re noticed, but it’s hot.
Crazy hot.
Unncessarily hot.
Stupid hot.
Why? Because it’s June and I live in South Carolina.
I have lived most of my 45 years in the South. I spent a year in Michigan as a toddler too young to remember what cold is. I spent a year in Northern Virginia as a seventh grader with no recollection other than snow, because middle schoolers – in particular Southern ones – are impervious to heat, and only form weather memories when snow falls. I can vividly remember all of the snows of my childhood. Hardly remember a moment of heat, save for the time a friend and I decided we’d drive to the pool in the car with the windows rolled up and the AC off in the middle of summer to see how refreshing the water would feel. Fun fact: high schoolers sometimes have questionable judgment.