The Archive

Like Kylie's pants

It’s hot. One of those hot days where you look out at the blazing sunshing outside and smile in the morning. Then it gets hotter. Then hotter. Finally you end up stuck to your desk. Not metaphorically, forearms actually stuck to your desk like a naked sweaty man on a leather chair.

And you try not to move because it’s that temperature where, if you remain perfectly, exactly still, you don’t sweat, but if you so much as begin some light typing, the deluge begins.

And yet I like it. After all, the alternative is sitting under a pall of English grey, wondering if it’s a pathetic fallacy for your depression and trying to decide if moving to Brazil is really such a crazy idea.

So all in all, I’ll take the heat and risk the sweat, because at least I’m sweating with a smile on my face.

posted by Peter The Great @ 11:36 AM