Tonight I took a walk as part of my It Sure Sucks to Get Healthier, Fitter & More Relaxed When It’s Always Hot in Florida program.
45 seconds into my walk, I realize I’m walking through broth. The air is not as heavy as soup and definitely not as thick as a chowder, but it’s brothy just the same.
As I walk with one hand on my hip and the other holding the hair up off the nape of my neck, I amuse myself with the thought that somewhere in the fiery depths of hell, the damned are cutting in line, hoping for a chance to get on the overcrowded, smelly, bus to Florida for a cool autumn getaway vacation.
