It's too bloody hot everywhere at the moment. Absolute murder at Dagfields all day yesterday. 28 degrees of heat and 5 post-menopausal women having to work together in a glass box inside a windowless metal barn. I mean, it's asking for trouble. There'll be an incident before long and it's not going to be pretty. Then you find out Sharon can't come because BT are coming round and you've got to look after Robbie the Dog all day, and he stinks from rolling around in something unmentionable. And finally, to cap it all, you go to the hairdresser, the air conditioning's broken and all he wants to do is talk about Stoke City and rock music with his mate that's just walked in off the street whilst he should be focussing on my wash-in tint...
