Now how cool is that?

The car thermometer said 18'C at 9am this morning.

The sun said "I'm going to roast you" and proceeded to try, despite the cool air.

But hey, I got the long straw in the car stakes: Chris took the Pug (with barely working air con) and I got the convertible, so it's not all bad.

I had to open the window in the office behind me just now, it's so warm in here. I'm perspiring a little, just sat at my desk. The windows were taped up because they're so draughty that I get a headache from the cold air streaming through in the winter without doing that. Why can't our bodies be content with the situations they find themselves in? Maybe it's because they just reflect the way we are inside.