[No cartoon tonight -- the Mac (on which Comic Life is installed) is currently installing Mountain Lion!]
It is hot. Really hot. I know, I know, it’s nothing compared to feeling your brain melt out of your ears in the desert, and nothing compared to what would happen if you couldn’t find a nice shady spot on Mercury, but it’s still really hot.
Hot weather is widely regarded by people as a positive thing. Everyone gets all excited about the onset of summer and the prospect of sitting out in the garden slowly irradiating yourself to death. But you know what? Balls to that. Hot weather sucks, and I can’t wait for it to 1) piss it down with rain and 2) get back to the normal overcast weather for which this country is so well-known.
My feelings on this matter may be partially due to the fact that I got a bit burnt and suffered some mild heatstroke on the wekend — though thankfully nothing compared to the time I went to Gran Canaria for a couple of weeks and came back looking like I’d changed ethnicity (apart from my bum and associated front regions). The weather is just so damn oppressive right now — stepping outside the front door feels like stepping into an airless greenhouse. It’s hard to breathe, it’s exhausting to do anything and it’s just plain unpleasant. And, this being the UK, we’re not as enlightened regarding air conditioning as our American cousins, which means going indoors rarely helps very much, either. In fact, at several times over the last few days, it’s actually ended up being even hotter indoors (particularly upstairs) than it has been outdoors.
Honestly. I can’t wait for it to cool down. It just makes me not want to do anything except sit directly in front of a fan sucking on ice cubes and chugging back anything in a can that has been in a fridge for at least six hours.
Of course, the moment the temperature drops, I’ll probably complain that it’s too cold, too wet or too something else, so the weather can’t win really, unless it’s just sort of “nondescript” rather than hot, cold, wet or any combination thereof. Fortunately, as I said previously, the UK is particularly good at weather that is best described as “nondescript”. A grey sky, no rain, no snow, no sleet, perhaps a gentle breeze (but not too much) — that’s what I can live with.
Perhaps I should move somewhere like Scotland. The weather there seemed to be like that all the time on every occasion I’ve been there. But then, of course, I’d live in Scotland, which I have nothing against per se, but would somewhat stand in the way of my objective to move back closer to where my friends are.
Perhaps I’ll just invent some sort of environmental suit with built-in climate control. That sounds like the ideal solution, really. Now, just to strip the air conditioning unit out of Andie’s car while she’s not looking…