The transition from Indy to Fort Myers has been overall good, with moments in time where I am incredulous at the differences between the two places and I'm not talking geography.
The 'pace' is one of those things.
South Florida's pace is slow. Reaaaaaaaaal slow at times. I have to check my tendencies toward "wtf" fairly often down here. In the grocery store, I could be in line a half-hour, with only one person ahead of me, because the cashier and the customer ahead of me are having a conversation about people that they might know ... and how they are related, how big the kids are getting, don't the tourists seem to be here earlier this year and on and on. Then, if you are to wonder if these two people knew each other, the answer is no. They might know some of the same people, might live in the same area code or might just have wanted to be chatty that day. Oh yeah, this is life down here.
Meanwhile, my popsicles are dripping, milk is getting warm and I am losing what is left of my mind.
Not one single person down here is in a hurry to do anything. If you are in a hurry, give up. You will be thwarted at every turn. Your patience is too limited to be in a hurry down here.
So I'm learning patience. Adapting. Adjusting. Slowly.
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