TODAY is set to be one of the hottest June days on record. Consequently nobody can realistically task you with any of these:
Work
34C is far too hot to be sitting on an ergonomic office chair idly clicking between tabs. And that’s before you factor in a sweaty commute or, indeed, being at home. Answering emails? Attending meetings with other red-faced idiots trying to remember what the ordeal of their job involves before weakly calling for fresh Soleros? Impossible.
Be clothed
Clothing is a hangover of the last ice age. Whatever Eve learned that caused her to cover her fanny with a big leaf is superseded by the climate crisis. Modesty can go f**k itself. Even the thinnest knickers could send your body temperature soaring, so go naked while rubbing yourself down with a bag of frozen sweetcorn.
Speaking
Stringing together coherent sentences is not compatible with a heatwave. Even monosyllabic constructions like ‘yes’, ‘no’ and ‘f**k off’ are too demanding. Until the mercury falls to an unhostile level, we will communicate purely with pig-like grunts and snorts. For dads and many boyfriends this will be business as usual.
Have sex
On your mind, because of the heaps of toned, nubile bodies splashed all over your unpleasant British town even unto the Home Bargains. But the reality of wearily rutting up against another sweaty mass of flesh would be misery. Better to not let your skin touch anyone’s until at least Wednesday.
Anything
Sitting in a beer garden could fry you. The friction generated by walking to the park could make you explode into flames. The simple act of processing the world around you risks making your mind melt. By rights you should be allowed to curl up in your fridge and peace out from the world until September. Although even crawling over to it is asking a lot.
