These are my words, but I filtered them through ChatGPT.
Moving out-of-state has been a real adventure. The biggest downside? I have no idea where anything is. I rely on GPS like it’s my long-lost twin who finally decided to help with directions. Even on my morning walks—yes, walks—if I stray from the designated trail and dare to wander onto actual streets, I have to pull out the phone like, “Please, kind satellite, lead me home.”
We’re about an hour from Minneapolis, and so far, the drives have been blissfully traffic-free. Honestly, it’s eerie. Like, “Is this a trap?” kind of eerie. The only time I got stuck in traffic was picking up Nina and Niko from the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport. Classic rush hour + airport construction = slow crawl of doom.
One thing I’ve noticed: people here actually drive like they want to stay alive. No weaving in and out, no treating the road like a video game. They merge gently. They brake politely. It’s like some kind of snow-and-ice-driving Jedi training has made them all experts. Meanwhile, I’m out here with Texas driving habits trying to chill.
We’re settling in nicely, though. The elementary school is less than two miles away, and I’m officially on the hunt for a snow blower. Not for the whole block—just our driveway. But still. That feels like a real “I live here now” purchase.
Weather-wise, it’s been mostly rainy. And then this weekend? Boom. Sauna. I mean, it was like summer suddenly remembered it had a job to do.
Last Monday, I was supposed to go to St. Paul for a work thing, but it was pouring, and I wasn’t comfortable enough to drive on the highway in the rain for an hour. If I lived closer, sure. But this? Nah. My dedication has limits.
And then there was last Wednesday. We tried to hit up the local Farmers Market. It was just sprinkling when we left—no big deal. I even gave Niko the umbrella because he basically melts in the rain like a sugar cube in a storm. We walked around quickly and grabbed some macaroons for Niko (because, priorities). But by the time we got back to the car, it was full-on weather drama. The rain got heavier, the wind picked up, and then—because why not—it started hailing. We were safe in the car, but I drove home like I was sneaking past a dragon. Slow and steady. No sudden moves. No loud noises. Just a quiet prayer to the Minnesota weather gods to let us live.
