A Runt’s Rant: The Weather Forecast

Link to podcast:

<< http://www.mixcloud.com/antonipeychev/a-runts-rant-the-weather-forecast/ >>

What I wanted to do in my lunch break today was to go for a walk in the park; it really wasn’t too much to ask for, was it now…?

Or maybe it was.

What woke me up in the morning was the drought created by…nothing, really.

My door was shut, my window- closed.

It was then when I realised that it wasn’t actually drought; rather, it was a wind so strong and so cold that it made my heart sink into oblivion (quite picturesque, I know).

And oblivion is definitely NOT something that you want to sink in before work; it leaves a pretty bad taste in your mouth, much like a rotten tomato- you know it’s past its prime but you have it anyway, just because.

As I was having my breakfast, I thought that it would be quite clichéd for me to rant about the weather in England.

And then I thought about it some more and reached the following conclusion:

• It was 3^rd April.
• It was supposed to be warm and sunny.
• I was supposed to be chirruping alongside the birdies.
• I was supposed to walk around in my suit only.
• It was also -2 C.
• There was freezing cold wind.
• There was no Sun.
• There were no smiley people in the streets.
• There were barely any people in the streets, in fact.
• I was wearing a t- shirt, a shirt, a suit, an overcoat, a scarf and leather gloves, through which my fingers were still freezing up.

I was not a happy bunny and decided that it would, in the end, make perfect sense for me to complain and whinge about the weather.

On my way to work, I stumbled across several people who were only wearing a T- shirt, no overcoat, etc.

And then I thought: could wearing only a t- shirt act as a placebo of sorts in that it made you forget or ignore the cold weather?

I took off my overcoat for a second and decided that, even thought I’d had little sleep, I still had some sense left in me to immediately put it back on.

It was -2 C and no placebo was going to change that.

I walked through the park on my way to the office; it was as barren as a student’s fridge on a Sunday evening. There were no birds chirruping; a couple of chaps who had a bit too much to drink did, however, put up quite a good performance of Elton John’s ‘Your Song’.

But it was definitely ‘their’ song as opposed to his; thankfully, I recognised the lyrics and substituted their melody and rhythm for the ones in my head.

Sat at my desk, with a cappuccino in my hand, I looked through the window and I thought to myself:

‘Wouldn’t it be a good idea if I bought several paintings for the office and used those to cover up the windows?’

Something along the lines of:

  

‘Brilliant’, I thought.

And then forgot all about it.