Move down here for work, love, or sunshine and after a while, you start to melt into the place. You adopt the weird habits and mannerisms of the natives, who once were just like you: people running from something up north. After a while, the weather, people, and wildlife don't seem so strange anymore. Since all writers love to make generalizations based on their own experiences, here's a list of common symptoms.
1. You're proficient in reading Doppler radar, despite no training as a weatherperson.
2. Your doormat is all awkwardly off to the left because the door opens outwards. Because of hurricanes.
3. You don't speak French, but the phrase "Je me souviens" strikes terror and hatred into your heart.
4. You can tell the difference between a snail, a broken bottle, and an empty syringe by the popping sound they make when you step on them.
5. You don't "take" pills; you "eat" them.
6. You're pretty sure those little hard centipede things materialize on your floor overnight because you've never actually seen one alive.
7. You're more scared of coconuts than birdshit.
8. You assume that the larger the boat, the unhappier the people onboard.
9. When people say "Hollywood," you think of broken lives, not big letters.
10. The following categories of news are not remarkable to you: people with face tattoos doing horrible things to their "loved" ones, educators doing horrible things to children, random parts of animals and people showing up in parking lots and canals, Ponzi schemes.
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