Fucking hot weather, innit. I’m sitting in my pants writing this. JUST MY PANTS. Sweaty, sticky pants. Laptop burning through the cushion balanced on my lap. Growing colonies of bacteria in my swampy under-boobs. Pretty sure there’s also some jungle vines amassing in my foetid arse crack. Fat flies buzzing in lazy swirls around the stagnant shallows of my armpits. I’m so HOT. And not in a good way.
Just wanted to give y’all a mental image of my beauteous form, there. YOU’RE WELCOME. Any time.
There are ways of coping. ONE: don’t live in a country where this bastard-sunshine thing can happen. Go NORTH. In the epic wastelands of the north, it’s cooler, and not so damn bright, and they have clouds and rain and stuff. Unfortunately, I feel dizzy and get nosebleeds if I go past Gloucester so I have to stay south and west as much as possible. For the sake of my HEALTH, obvs.
TWO: live in a cave. This is feasible. There are many caves in the ground. Some are habitable. As long as you like living in caves. Dark, chill, festooned with bats and stalagmites: what’s not to enjoy? Wait, it’s almost as if we’re talking about my arse crack again. ANYWAY. I can’t live in a cave, I get flashbacks to that time I was buried alive and had to punch my way out of a coffin* so dwelling underground is just not my thing. Shame.
THREE: become one of those people for whom hot weather is merely an inconvenience, or a slight discomfort. Y’know. They don’t perspire. They barely have a sheen to their dry, scaly skin. They skip across hot pavements, from shadow to precious shadow, with graceful, skittish ease. They gaze upon you with the slow, moist blink of the eternally cool. I envy these people. Oh no, wait, I mean LIZARDS. I envy lizards. And lizard-people.
Those are only a few of the more sensible solutions I have for managing to stay comfortable in this stupid weather. Moo is perfectly content to splash about in a washing-up bowl full of water outside in the shade, while I melt into a fleshy puddle nearby. I think my internal thermostat is broken, cos I never used to be this pathetic. I should be romping in the park in a bikini top and denim hotpants, yeah? I shouldn’t be yearning the fabric clasp of a damn good cardigan, right? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
How the fucking fuck are you supposed to deal with July? Like, an actual July with actual sweltering bloody heatwave stuff? I DON’T LIKE IT.
Bastard weather. Do one.
PS I’m allowed to moan about the weather. So there.
*may have been Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, I’m always getting mixed up with her