#1: I haven’t had one in a while. And by that, I do mean longer than you guys; I wasn't here for the last one. To have sun on my shoulders feels like a novelty that I acknowledge will wear off. When I’m sweating like a crack-whore in a few weeks time (post freezing my arse off in Italy) due to a 48 degree heatwave, I might come back and change this.
By the by, I do like being able to say crack-whore again! It may be crude, some may find it distasteful, but sometimes the exactness of the simile outweighs the crudeness!
#2: How wonderful it is when you only have black underwear clean and you desperately need skin-colour. Which you left wet in the washing machine - in the summer you can always hang them on the indicator stick of your car to dry in the morning sun.
Disclaimer: I am NOT saying I have actually done this.
I’m not saying I haven’t, either!
#3: Summer means I feel less guilty about not taking my vitamin D supplements. I’m supposed to take two every night, because Italy stole my D-factor, but I’ll be honest with you (be flattered; I lied to my GP) it was six months before I even opened the bottle.
Suddenly the strange ease with which my toe fractured itself – because I hardly did anything to fracture it – is starting to become clearer.
Also, handy tip: don’t lie to your GP. The blood tests will come back to bite you.
#4: Summer dresses! Enough said. So pretty!!!
#5: Summer holidays. Oh dear goodness, I have 2 days left. 2 days! To be honest, I can’t believe the end of the year got here so quickly. I think – not too much, actually – about what I was doing a year ago and it seems like ten years has past. But three terms since my holiday have sped along with tremendous speed; I'm surprised I've kept up!. And now here we are again! Too excited for words!
I’m really looking forward to this Christmas, regardless of its setting in the Left Bank of Paris.. Can’t stop singing; can’t stop smiling. Life is much better. Amen.
#5: Having purple fingers because you’re eating so many blackberries for dinner.
Actually, this is irritating. I don't like dirty hands. Does anyone; is it normal, or is my situation particularly pedantic? Let me lay it all out for you: I don’t like makeup underneath my fingernails, red dust in the grooves of my fingerprints (to the extent that I'm never going back to Central Australia again - the two week holiday that was still embedded in my skin two weeks after), pen ink on my fingers - occupational hazard when you're both a writer, a shopper, and have more receipts in your handbag than anything else (WHERE IS THE F*** PEN?!!!) and, it turns out, blackberry stained fingers. Dirt is so grotty. I mean, apart from by its very definition. And purple grotty is even worse.
I’m surprised I’m not addicted to those little bottles of hand sanitiser!
And before you ask, no - I do not wish to use a spoon. That is not the way one eats summer berries – which is straight out of the carton. I mean, even the carton is superfluous and shameful - if this were Wordsworthian England I would be eating them straight off the vine! But I’m not that lucky to be the romantic child-figure romping through meadows of honey suckle and vine.And there are no blackberry bushes in my area.
Or black faced sheet. Sad face.
Flashback to second year Lit. Good times, Wordsworth!
So, what do you like about summer?
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