The rain is back.

It could be said, should be said, that we in the UK should count ourselves lucky for our climate that gives us our green and pleasant land. But when we live in times when we’ve not really had a summer for six years, when last year summer never happened and billions of pounds worth of damage was caused by flooding, we’d be justified in airing a grievance at the Jet Stream.

Having enjoyed weeks of dry and sunny days, the re-emergence of the wet stuff has mercifully only announced itself as a bit of drizzle, but it’s still enough to make you curse. Curse the walks with the little dog that will again be an assault course of mud, curse squeaking windscreen wipers, curse the interruption to the beautiful late winter sunshine that we’d been enjoying.

When all is said and done though, there’s something quite comforting to have the rain falling against the bedroom window at night time. It insulates us from noises that might otherwise interrupt our slumber, providing a kind of white noise that hypnotises the brain.

It also means that the dickheads who’d normally limp their way home noisily from the pub hurry along instead, forfeiting their customary shouting for the sake of getting home quickly.

This is me trying to see the positive side of one of the most miserable aspects of living in the UK. It’s not working. There’s enough water in this sodden land of ours to allow us a six month drought. I long for a long, hot summer that stretches from April until October. I want to get sunburnt. I want nights when I can’t sleep because it’s too hot. I want to have to use the air conditioning in the car and have my eyes stinging through wearing the contact lenses that allow me to use sunglasses like normal people do, rather than switching between normal and prescription specs.

Then again, normal people wear sunglasses on their heads indoors. They wear their sunglasses on their heads after dark. Even worse, they wear them on the backs of their heads. Why? I don’t get it. The sun goes down, put your sunglasses away. Nobs.

Perhaps I’m just jealous because my curly hair won’t allow me to be part of that cool gang who can do this. I once had a very uncomfortable hour long journey home from work with a pair of sunglasses dangling from the side of my head after they’d got caught up in my hair when I tried to push them up onto my head. “GET THESE FUCKING THINGS OFF ME!” I screamed as I ran into my parents’ house. They thought I was being attacked by a swarm of angry wasps until they saw the comedy unravelling before their eyes.

It must be appendicitis… or an aortic aneurysm… or something REALLY serious
My sleep was disturbed in the early hours of dawn today when I awoke with very uncomfortable abdominal pain. The possibilities cycled through my sleep, hypochondriac mind:

As I struggled with the pain and drifted in and out of sleep, nothing brought relief. I was staying with friends and asked if there was any ibuprofen to be had. Yes, thank goodness, but as I was abut to take them, that awful sensation of hypersalivation and a cold sweat rose from my neck and into my mouth and head. Sick? I’m going to be sick?? I positioned myself in readiness, but the wave of nausea passed over me as quickly as it had started. The pain relief was taken and I settled back into my bed. And then it was all over. Gone. Within ten minutes, it was like the previous five hours hadn’t been real.

I’m guessing it wasn’t an aneurysm. Not this time at least.

I’ll just about survive to see me through the spring and into the summer. I’m hoping that the government has been working on a secret device to reverse the North Sea wind farms and blow the Jet Stream back up to where it belongs.