I've reached that point, as everyone does on a weekend when they've got no plans, of just sitting around and occasionally scratching my arse. (Seriously, did something bite me? What, when, and how the fuck?) I've cleaned and washed and organised and made several trips to the bin all as one does when one's flat is quite overdue for cleaning. I've done washing and watched as it dried five minutes after being hung out. I woke quite early, despite my desire for a good sleep in, because the weather, while charming for drying, is unnaturally fucking hot. It was too hot to loll about in bed. I do hate that about summer. And this east facing building (dear building planner - you suck - yours sincerely, etc etc).
Oh yeah, did I just say summer?
Of course, as we all know, this whole global warming thing is a total farce etc etc. It's perfectly normal for a colder than average winter month - the last official winter month at that, yes I know calendars are bollocks, not the point though - to be followed by two or was it three days of springlike weather and then late December weather. Perfectly normal. Loving it. No really, LOVING it. Except for the too-hot-ness. And the almost total absence of spring - a season which I like and appreciate having spent 13 years in a two season climate (wet and dry not hot and cold). I also like autumn - both as word and as season. Wonder if there'll be an autumn next year.
Oh dear, did I just do a weather rant?
So, anyway, I'm bored now but it gets later so I guess I can at least look forward to eating and going to bed. It's so exciting I might burst something. I might even do something really thrilling tomorrow like updating my CV. Oooooooooooh.