It has been a muggy day, my friends.
I'm not sure how it can be muggy in the middle of winter, but it is.
And also, don't you think that muggy is a funny word?
Don't muse over this too hard though, there's still a recession to think about and all.
Is it still a recession?
Don't you just love my old pal humidity?
Me and humidity are so close. Like sisters.
I love her to death.
Although I'm kind of sad that she isn't joined by her evil summer twin, heat.
Because really, there is nothing that I love more than when your underwear is sticking in places.
Equally, I love the feeling of having recently been steamed in broccoli water.
I ran some muggy errands today, checking important things off my to-do list and solving national crises and buying Christmas presents, contemplating bagels and I just get home and the skies open up and all of the humidity comes dripping out of the clouds and lands in fat, sloppy puddles.
Ross calls and says "it's chucking it down", well, I prefer the phrase "it's raining like a mad man", but each to their own.
I reply, "oh really, because we are practically having a heat wave over here, I'm contemplating sunbathing", but he does not appreciate my sarcasm, so I hang up.
Isn't this a really good blog post?
I thought so too?
But on reflection, I feel like all of my blog posts are about the weather nowadays.
Am I right, or am I right?
It is far too hot in this living room, so I'm going to turn off the radiator and remove my fur.
That is not a euphemism, I am genuinely wearing a cardigan with a fur trim.
So, now we've got that all sorted, I'm going to watch my second ever episode of Ace of Cakes and hopefully a little mind blowing will occur.
These are not cakes, they are works of art.
But I never really was any good at art.
Not even during my wannabe interior designer phase.
So now, I'm going to be a teacher instead.
I thank you and bid you a cheery farewell.