Visiting home is always a stressful activity for me.
I always end up getting into fights with my mom and brothers, and the visit is strained from start to finish.
This past winter it was even more difficult than ever, but not entirely due to my family relations. You see, this past Christmas was the first year I was returned back to my hometown after moving several hundreds of miles south. I was no longer accustomed to the bitter air temperatures of winter up north, and the difference was shocking from the moment I first felt the frigid temperatures until the very last breath I took of painfully cold air. I thought that I had packed well for the trip and would be prepared to combat the chilly winter air, but I was very wrong. Apparently the memories of struggling through snowpiles and subzero temperatures had escaped me, because I was absolutely blown away by the air quality when I arrived up north. I hid in the house for every moment of the trip, huddled against an air vent and wrapped in a heavy blanket. I rarely was able to stand the low air temperatures unless I had a space heater dutifully plugged in at my feet, and I walked around the house with an electric heater in tow. I was constantly running over to the thermostat to bump up the indoor air temperature, but even with the heat blasting I could barely feel a difference in the frigid air. I was 100% ready to flee south at the end of the ordeal.