They stand by the window at work, looking out. "Isn't it glorious?" they say.
They don't see what I see: the pollen, the burning sun, the heat so thick it feels like you're wearing it. I'm quite happy inside with my fan, protected from that.
It's better here than where I worked before, at least: at least here I'm not seen as some kind of dirty deviant for not liking the sun. At least here I'm not the only one who prefers the cold.
There's plenty of things I don't like about the winter, but at least if it's cold I can do something about it. If it's too hot... well, there's only so many layers you can remove before you're tearing at your flesh. I complained to Husbit that it wasn't fair men can cycle topless and I can't. "You could," he replied, "I'm sure no one would complain." It's not the complaints that put me off. Also, I burn easily. I didn't until a couple of years ago: the sun would leave me as milky white as it found me, but now it scars me strawberry red, fading to honey if I'm lucky.
I miss the rain. It feels like a thunderstorm, but nothing's come yet: it's like waves of pressure building then partial release but no storm.
And I love plants and appreciate they need to breed, but do they really have to do it in my face and in my lungs? I'm taking an antihistimine every 12 hours at the moment, and my steriod inhaler, and I still feel puffy from my naval to the top of my head, and I still need my ventolin inhaler from time to time. At least I'm not trying to claw my eyes out, but wearing contacts is very uncomfortable.
And every time I've been on antidepressants it's been hard to convince my GP to take me off: in the summer, my mood plummets so they won't take me off and in the winter they won't take me off "because everyone has a lower mood in the winter." I've usually ended up walking out without making a repeat appointment, coming off the AD's myself, and then not going to the GP again until I've moved house as an excuse to change surgery because I'm embarrassed to admit I've taken myself off against their advice. And I thought it was depression related, but it's happened this year and last year too, and my depression has cleared up. And I thought it was just me, but I've spoken to other people and it's not.
And it's too hot to move, let alone sleep. Bah.
And I'm tired of being told to call weather I don't like "glorious" and weather I love "terrible".
Anyway, really this post is just an excuse for not posting real posts recently. Sorry.
Define a "real" post. This was one, by all obejective standards. Now, your own subjective standards of awesomness aside... ;)
ReplyDeleteHehe, I tend to define 'real' as being about roleplay, Blood Bowl or writing fiction... although, on that basis this would be 'real' because it's partly me practicing writing for fiction...
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