Happy dawn of Spring day

For a person with self-diagnosed-but-unwilling-to-have-it-confirmed-as-medical-fact seasonal affective disorder (SAD indeed!), today was a quite momentous personal day.

Today marks the first day of happy weather season, medical term incidentally, for a number of reasons.

For those who mark their calendar based around sporting events, i.e. every sane person on this planet of ours, today is the football League Cup final day which, along with the first Grand Prix of the year and the end of the Six Nations, marks the dawning of Spring to cheer up our depressingly tedious little world. Largely cheering us up by allowing us to guffaw at randy farm animals boning everything that moves as we fly by on the motorway. Anywho, soon enough we’ll be hearing the sound of leather on willow and Frisbee on forehead and that’s a very warm thought indeed.

Secondly, you may have noticed that it was a tad unseasonably warm today, unless you’re from the North East in which case it’s warm all day, every day. Despite ridicule from my co-workers as I completed my exhausting 6 ¼ hour shift, I strode purposefully and manfully from my place of work to my car (which was parked at good 20 metres away) with nothing but a t-shirt to protect my skinny torso.

Amazingly, my mighty man nipples did not turn into the world’s most useless pair of orange juicers and thus, upon reaching my car, I was allowed to look magnificently cool (or a humongous douchebag, depending on your interpretation of the next few words) as I drove home with the window down and my driving arm resting on the window frame. Like I said, magnificently cool…in my mind. If only I had the foresight to have taken a pair of sunglasses. Alas.

As an aside, how nice of God (omnipotent and omnipresent Rupert Murdoch) was it to ensure that the first edition of the Sun on Sunday was met with some sun on Sunday. Way to win us all over again Rupert!

Thirdly, and most importantly as this just affected me and no-one else, the drive to work this morning was in something approaching broad daylight. The last time the sun rose before I did, the world still possessed Muammar Gaddafi, Whitney Houston and only one type of KitKat Chunky*. There is something quite uplifting about not having to graft one’s way to work through darkness so thick that it attended special classes, to deploy a rather awful metaphor.

So, I hear you not asking, how did I celebrate this wondrous day whereby the incredible changing of the seasons that our planet produces? Staying indoors all day and getting unhealthier, but of course. Money is required to be able to enjoy ciders in the sunshine and anyone who sunbathed today really should have had some funny looks aimed at them (yeah, I would have sunbathed today, but self-consciousness issues and all that).

 Happy dawn of Spring day y’all.

*For the purposes of that joke, we’re ignoring Christmas and New Year booze-induced lie-ins and any of my days off work. Why? Because I’m lazy and I’m not going to do a rewrite so there.