August 06, 2003
Bloody Hell.
It is officially the hottest stinkin' day in London's recorded history. Do you know how long that is? Considering William the Something conquored this place in 1066, that's a LONG FRIGGIN TIME.
I wouldn't mind if London had a beach. Or a pool. Hell, I'd settle for a sprinkler on the lawn, so I could run through wearing nothing but my underware it in my office lunch break... I'd fit right in with all the scabby faced teenage boys who are running past my window, showing off their pearly white chests.
But, of course, there is no beach. No pool. And there's no bloody sprinkler. I'm stuck inside this office shaped oven, typing on a melting keyboard while I try not to electrocute myself with the puddle of sweat that's gathering at my feet.
I'm a Queenslander. I'm expected to take the heat, and crack a beer, and BBQ prawns, and scoff at the heat-hating southerners. But somewhere, somebody isn't playing fair.
There's no breeze.
None at all. The air is motionless and scorching. But what's even more painful than the blistering sunshine, is the fact that I'm stuck here, watching other people enjoy the heat from my desk.
Arse.
I cant wait til I can go home, and run through the sprinklers.
Posted by Jacqui at August 6, 2003 02:34 PM
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