The English weather is like a woman PMSing. I can't belive that today I just put on my best spring clothes and stepped outside, into what I thought would be a beautiful day, for the REST OF THE DAY.
Well.......to begin with the sun was a little shy this morning so, naturally, I dressed accordingly and decided to wear warm clothes and then just like magic after a long hour of deciding what to wear ( and then I wounder why I am always late) and matching everything up, of course, I had to change AGAIN!
The sun was out, so as everyone knows when the sun is out, one can not go around dressed like an eskimo.
So, anyway, after another hour and being dressed in my best spring clothes and I discovered to my surprise that it is not as hot as it
should be. I give myself a mental note by this point, to have a word with the 'big guy' upstairs. After all, I don't just go to church every now and then for nothing!
Then, later on as I am sitting outside the library, knowing full well that I should be inside being productive ( as if trying to get tanned is not productive) but hey it's only uni work and even better only prelims, lo and behold instead of basking in the sunlight I am bombarded with
hail stones. I am beggining to understand, finally, what the poor WW2 people were going through. One minute is nice and quiet and then the Naziz are at it again.
Therefore my hair is ruined, my make-up resembles Heath Ledger's Joker (RIP, what a shame such a fit guy had to die) and my lips are quivering, unfortunatelly not with pleasure but from the cold.
There must be a place where God knows what he is doing? Not in England though, so I only forsee one solution: marry a rich man, move to the Bahamas, never suffer another PMS weather tantrum again.
Failing that, as realistic an option as it is, maybe I should just carry an umbrella with me.