It is hot as hell and I am suffering from a bout of don’t know what to do with myself. I just walked home lugging my laptop, an exercise that saw me sporting a fresh slick of sweat within minutes of stepping out of air con into actual, honest, swindle-free air. Now I am having difficulty deciding what to do. I have a nice chunky window of Friday evening free time and so many activities with which to fill it, but a strange scatty brain that won’t let me settle on any one thing. I kind of want to read/write/do Sudoku/blob/watch TV/hang with my friends/sleep/eat/not eat/be on the other side of the world. It’s tough. So far I have actually managed to eat a Macca’s soft serve cone (50c worth of ice creamy, fake tasting perfection), have a couple of swigs of Chi (my new favourite drink) and buy a coffee from the nice boy on the corner. Congratulations (weird choice on the coffee though if it’s really as hot as all that). What I should probably be doing at a time like this is a nice, calming hour and a half of yoga, but it’s way too hot for that. In olden times I may have cracked open a beer and calmed my rattled nerves that way. Hmmm. Maybe I’ll just lie face down on my cold leather sofa until I’m calm enough to make another move. Awesome. We’re doing fabulously.