I’m not entirely sure what’s happening with British weather at the moment. All I know is that it’s not being consistent and I hate inconsistency, consistently. I’m not a fan of hot weather I will admit, although owning a black car does make my view point biased. Open the door and step inside and receive third degree burns to your face and hands. You then have to have the windows open which messes up your hair, because using the air-conditioning seems to open up a little valve in the fuel tank and drain out all the petrol.
The hot weather also brings out all the insects in what can only be described as an armada. Right now the score is Alex 50, Moths 1. Don’t ask how they won that point. Because it is hot I want to open the window, but the moment I do my bedroom becomes an Insectarium. I will openly admit I’m terrified of most insects, moths being the worse. Even tiny moths receive death. Spiders I also dislike, however I reserve my most deep hatred for the Daddy Long Legs. Who’s bloody idea was it to take a spider, give it wings, and a high dose of valium? All insects reduce me to my most feminine, normally in the form of a shriek, followed by me running out of the bedroom in the direction of the can of RAID.
Another problem with hot weather is that it gets your hopes up for the barbeque. Lets face it, at least half the times you plan a barbeque you end up having Spaghetti Bolognese instead because the barbeque outside had its lid left off and is now a small swimming pool. I’m also not sure how it happens, but the times we do have a barbeque I always end up cooking it. The family stay indoors, they come out briefly to grab the cooked food (and complain about every little bit of charcoal on the sausages) and then bugger off back indoors again. And because I get quite excitable with the lighterfluid and matches, and the barbeque becomes hot enough to melt Crystal Palace, I literally go through blood, sweat, burns and tears to cook those sausages.
And call me vain, but it is also impossible to look good in hot weather. I’ve recently discovered the magical delights of straightening my hair, complete with scalded ears. Every now and then my hair is like a stubborn child, and refuses to style in any way other than the “Boris Johnson” look. But mostly it has been looking really nice….until you step outside. Sitting at a desk at work, and (sorry folks) you start to feel a tad sweaty if the dipstick caretakers have neglected to turn on the air conditioning. As a result, my lovely straight hair at the front gets out a map, studies it, and then decides that up is the best route to go. Not an attractive look I tell thee.
Then again, its worse when the weather decides to go the other way and randomly piss it down with rain. I have no sweatshirt. I have no hat. I have no hoody. And because I’m male, I have no umbrella either. So my hair gets wet. And then it dries in a style similar to that of Hagrids pubic hair. Thank you to whichever parent gave me those genes.
I like spring and autumn, those are nice seasons. They’re the prettiest, they have a nice temperature where its not too hot and not too cold. And because the chance of rain is so high, you don’t get your hopes up for a warm sunny day, and you’re always prepared with a coat in the car.
