Summer's Vengeance

So, it's not even the end of May yet but that doesn't seem to be stopping summer from gripping England by the hair and pulling back savagely. The sky is blue today, more blue that you'd imagine possible for a country that is famous for it's rain. It may have been overcast yesterday, but it was still sweltering hot then, and today it's even worse. So, in the style of a true Brit, I am going to complain about the weather in today's post.

As a barefooter I hate hot summers with a vengeance. It's not because I don't like the sun, I do, especially in the winter, but the problem with me is that I tend to fluctuate with the temperature. Let me give you an example: In the winter, I am often cold. I find it hard to warm beds up at night (for some reason especially Alex's), and need another person, or a hot water bottle, or something at least, in order to keep the bed warm. It doesn't help that Alex's house is always cold in the winter; the only saving grace from the coldness of that bed is that Alex is an eternal radiator. Before I move back to the present I should mention one more thing: sometimes I get so cold I have to wear socks.

In the summer I get hot, possibly even hotter than all of you guys do, though not those of you who live in the middle of the Mediterranean. The problem I have is that when the floor is warm, I can't expel enough heat to make my body more comfortable so I overheat. This sounds like it could be a reason to perhaps acclimatise to shoes again, but I assure you, if I did that it would only get worse. As it is I can't even wear flip flops.

Something else you should know; I can't stand overheating. I know a lot of you can empathise with that statement.

When I ventured into Uni this morning I didn't know how hot it would be. Only the shadows saved me. The train was unbearably hot, and the fact that I was wearing a heavyish backpack didn't help at all. Being outside hardly helped either, and the shadows, though cooler, were only a temporary measure.

To say the least I'm not looking forward to travelling to Alex's. The fact that the train station that I will definitely have to wait at has absolutely no cover is only half the problem. I know that by the time I have to travel again all the shadows will be non-existent. I know that the iced latte that I've just finished drinking will, at best, offer temporary relief. I know that my hands will be clammy all day, no matter how many times I wash them. However, I also know that Alex's house will be cold when I get there, and that we'll probably be staying inside that cool haven.

In the three hours that I remain here at uni however, I have a fifteen minute segment of a stage play to write. Later people.