grump

[freckles_and_doubt]

Tra la la, it's January, and Seasonal Depression, as usual, has gripped me, since I'm clearly deeply contrary and insist on getting this in the depths of summer rather than winter. Work starts tomorrow and will be hell for two months, the weather's horribly hot, my neck's still itching, Avatar is being mean to Appa, and Roswell has just handed me Liz and Max breaking up and that stupid slut Tess seducing Max. Terry Pratchett is now Sir Terry, which is equally amusing and wonderful and doesn't at all make up for the Alzheimer's. And the BBC have cast a complete unknown as the next Doctor. I was very sold on the Patterson Joseph rumour, I'm narked. The new guy looks way too young, and rather dweebish.

Phooey. It's bad when even my fangirling distractions fail me. I shall go and punish myself for an hour and a half at the gym instead. Possibly medieval monks had something in the mortification-of-the-flesh department.

Comments

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Actually, I think it's the heat, rather than any northern-focused morphic resonance. I hate the hot weather, it makes me shrivel up and die, crossly. I'm limp, headachy and ennervated for about two months in January/Feburary, dreaming wistfully of snow.

[kadekraan.livejournal.com]

When I was in Perth (temps typically 30+, occasionally 35-40), my sister-in-law once said I looked 'wilted'. I think this was partially because of my limp hat hair, but nevertheless it was probably an accurate description.

It's very cold in London at the moment (either side of freezing), but I'm still not dreaming of the heat. Maybe next week. Or the week after.