Bloody polar bears

I get up, go upstairs, open the windows to let the glorious sun shine into the kitchen while I make breakfast, which I eat on the balcony.

Awesome. This is what summer is supposed to be like. 28 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. For a moment I almost forget that I live in London. I finish breakfast, brush my teeth and prepare to head out.

But as I open the front door a thought strikes me. ‘Cardigan!’

I breath a sigh of relief as I go back up the stairs and pick up a thick, wooly jumper. At the bus stop the other commuters look at me strangely. ‘Why is that guy carrying a massive jumper?’, It’s the nicest day of the year, what is he doing?’. I can see in their faces what they are thinking.

Wearing only a short-sleeved shirt I enjoy the summer sunshine as I walk the short distance from the bus stop to the office.

But I know what is coming.

As I step out of the lift I can feel the cold blowing on my arms. The moment I open the office door I am shivering and forced to put on the jumper. ‘I wish I’d brought a scarf’, I think as I sit down in front of my computer. I am forced to blow on my hands three times before the computer has booted up.

The bloody polar bears have turned down the air conditioning again.


1 Comment

  1. hos mig är det varmt som satan…

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