I remember that feeling you get in dreams,
where your legs feel like lead weights
and no matter how hard you push,
you can’t make them move fast enough.
I remember the headteacher’s voice
coming in over the loud speaker
to announce to the parents
that I was either finishing the last race
or coming first in the next.
I remember crying afterwards
and swearing to never run a relay again.
Even I’m starting to think that perhaps the country has gone a little doolally in the recent months. For those of you who are up to date on the English weather you will know that England is currently considered to be in a drought. For those of you who couldn’t give a toss about the English weather, you should, it’s a fantastic topic of conversation. Constant opportunities for a good gripe or moan, no matter what it’s like outside the window.
My shoes are still drying on the radiator from the walk from my sixth form to my car this afternoon! Areas of Britain are actually under hosepipe bans, and I’m squelching my way down the streets of Newport with an umbrella that recently gave in to the perils of wind! (It broke.)
At present I’m spending an annoyingly large amount of my time resembling a drown rat, and this is not a look that I wake up and think, hum… I quite fancy looking like that this morning.
Where I go to school is also infested with student driver (though I must include myself among them). Heavy traffic + torrential rain + the odd bus/van = best friend making threats to my life unless I start parking closer to school. (There really isn’t anywhere closer to school that I can park, at least not without risking being yelled at.)
I have to love living in England when stuff like this happens though. Where else can you say that you are currently stood in a drought area, but the rain has been pretty much non-stop for a week and a half?
Would it be any better if the weather suddenly turned warm? Probably not, the last heat wave we had just left most of the sixth form out on the school field complaining that it was too hot. I’d probably melt if I ever visited somewhere that actually does have summer.
There is really only one solution as far as I can see. Replace the broken umbrella and ignore all weather forecasters and drought announcer people. (Yes I know that’s probably not their title!) England is wonderfully barmy and I would not wish to live anywhere else.
But if someone knows how to get the rain to stop I would greatly appreciate it, just for the times between 8.20am-8.45 am and 3.45pm-4.30pm GMT. The rest of time I can huddle inside and everyone else can get a soaking.
We all have that one friend (or for some of us those few friends) who cannot fail to make us laugh. When one of your best friends turns up to lessons dressed as a Pokemon there us little that will then spoil your mood.
These are the people who make is realise why life is quite so fantastic and why I always remember that no matter how mad my writing seems, real life can always beat it.