Sunday

 I need to knock this out quickly. I’m not feeling well. I always get headaches when a storm is coming in and we’re getting another arctic storm for about the next three days. Cross your fingers that no pipes burst.

I’m going to assume the snowbird is in Arizona. My grandparents were snowbirds but they went to Palm Springs. Since a bear’s daughter goes to school in AZ, I’m rolling the dice with this one.

When we moved to God Forsaken Arizona we got there on the 4 of October. Record heat. The kind that just punches you straight on the face. 116, I think it was.

We’d driven through Utah and there was a blizzard there. Feet of snow and then into the depths of hell. 

We stopped at my in-laws house in Mesa because they’d done all of the house hunting and had our keys. We went out to dinner and as quickly as that I was introduced to how Arizonans feel about snowbirds. The restaurant was packed. No parking. The traffic congested. And “ Fucking snowbirds” was flying around. Not just my in-laws either. Everyone waiting for a table was in on it. 

I was offended for the birds! I mean, why were these people bitching? More birds more jobs. More jobs more money. What’s wrong with that? And not only that but more businesses being built, more hair salons, more restaurants, more everything. Grouching people.

One year. One freaking year later I was now a full fledged resident of Arizona and was sick of the old people in the grocery stores writing checks, going under the speed limit. Taking ALL THE ROOM IN EVERY PLACE! Can’t get a doctors appointment. Can’t get in to get my hair cut. Can’t move around a parking lot. No new businesses were built. Why would they? For just five months of the year? That would be stupid. Every fall the resentment would build and every spring we’d breathe a sigh of relief. 

I love that snowbirds avoid Texas. I hated that I’d become THAT Karen. A whole state full of Karen’s just complaining about first world problems. It didn’t solve anything. I seriously doubt that the birds even noticed. 

My dad always came down in October and every year I’d tell him not to wear anything that said Washington or Seahawks. I wanted to avoid seeing the glares I knew we’d get. He packed all of the Seahawks clothes he owned. Bought some Washington stuff and relished in the pushing of the buttons. Now, who wonders where I learned to be spicy? I miss him.

Have to run. Look around you. Do you notice it now? 😁

Me