You know it's bad when pictures like the one on the right start appearing on the statuses of your friends and family on social media:
For those of you entering into winter. I apologize. I know you are jealous of those little suns, and I should point out that even the suns with clouds should show bigger suns and smaller clouds - we are not noticing the clouds, they are so tiny. Sorry, again. But let me point out to you, who measure your temperatures in Fahrenheit (is that because the numbers are too depressingly low in Celsius?) that 35 degrees in Celsius is 95 degrees! We are melting, melting, melting.
I wake up in the morning, and it's like I've slept in a heated pool. I go to sleep in the evening and there is an electric blanket beneath me - only there isn't. The only time it isn't hot is when I am in an air-conditioned office or in the pool.
But if you think I may be overreacting, I have nothing on my car. Granted, being in a car on a hot day makes things worse. Even when the aircon works. But really, this is what my car thinks of the weather in Joburg at the moment:
You see there - under the P, it thinks it is 49 degrees. Celsius. (120 in F).
Car, dear, it's hot, but not that hot. I drove home at 21h30 last night, and it proudly declared that it was 36 degrees - hotter than the maximum temperature in the midday. And it was dark.
I don't know - do you think my car is menopausal?