I just went for a lovely little walk on my lunch break. The sun was shining, it was warm, people were laughing and enjoying lunch in the park, lounging on the grass.
Summer has FINALLY come to London! I thought to myself excitedly.
And then, in the two minutes it took me to come back upstairs to the office, something changed. The sky was about six shades darker when I got out of the elevator than it was when I'd gotten in. It now looks ominously like rain.
How? I thought. Why? WHEN???
In fairness, I've lived in places with bad weather before. The worst July of my entire life was two years ago in Switzerland, when I spent the entire month touring the country and it was like the sky had forgotten that summer months are supposed to be the warm ones. And there's that famous not-really-by-Mark-Twain quote about how "the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco," which - regardless of who actually said it - I personally think is not inaccurate.
Still, I feel like something's a little different about British weather, which really can change on a dime. And somehow, the Brits just deal with it, in their t-shirts and miniskirts if they must! Never mind that on any one day I myself may need to carry a) an umbrella (or "brolly," as they're delightfully called); b) an extra pair of shoes; c) a jacket; d) two extra layers.
I need to become more British, I think. Build up an immunity to changing weather. Face it all with a stiff upper lip and a debonair attitude. Shrug it off.
It's sunny again now. Let's see how long it lasts this time.