— 9th July 2002
It’s wet, it’s raining, it’s summer. There’s no point trying to rationalise, the fact is that I remember summers, long hot summers. I remember kicking the football around on that patch of grass between the houses for hours EVERY NIGHT!! I’m not making this up. Between the ages of about 8 and 14, I’m sure of it.
I have a theory though. I’ve got a terrible feeling that those sunny days are there really. They’re still there waiting for me, and they’re not hiding. That’s the problem. By spending every working day sat here facing a monitor almost with my back to the nearest window, and by spending all my evenings indoors religiously, it’s me who’s hiding from them!!!
And I have the gaul to complain when it rains???