Let's stop pretending to actually enjoy the hot weather

Today is set to be the hottest June Day in the UK on record. So prepare yourself for all the cliches.

If you’re working, you’ll hear people wishing they were outside on ‘a day like this’. You’ll be struck with an urge to head to a pub garden and have a pint in the sun. People will suddenly appear in actual summer dresses and shorts, without tights.

We will all express joy at the wonder of nature, crowing about lapping up the sun and treating ourselves to an ice cream or six.

We are lying to ourselves. Hot weather in Britain is not a joyful event in any way, shape, or form.

It is absolutely miserable, mostly because British people truly lose their heads when the temperature rises. We don’t know how to act, we don’t know what to do, and we fool ourselves into thinking we’re laid back, chill people who will actually enjoy sitting out in the garden and blowing up a paddling pool.

It’s time to face the reality of a hot day in the UK: it’s f***ing awful.

Anyone working may say they wish they weren’t trapped inside. They are wrong.

If they had the day off, they would invariably spend the day at home, watching TV and grumpily wriggling around on the sofa every 20 minutes or so to say it’s too bloody hot.

We don’t have aircon (unless you’re really fancy), so the moment we wake up the day is miserably hot and sticky. Your legs will stick together with sweat. All of your clothes are doomed to itch and cling and feel unbearably tight. Walking around naked sounds dreamy, but it’s even worse – you chafe and stick and feel very much like a large ham left out on the dining room table.

You’ll tell yourself you should be outside, but… you don’t really want to head out there, do you?

It’s probably even hotter out there. You won’t have unlimited access to tap water or a cold shower or sticking your head in the freezer for a few moments of peace.

And what exactly should you do outdoors? British people aren’t outdoorsy types. We’re TV, tea, and biscuits types. We are hideously unsuited to hot weather and have no idea how to make summer plans beyond ‘we should be outside, I think?’.

There’s all this pressure not to ‘waste’ a ‘lovely day’ like this one, but whatever we do it’ll be wasted.

We either stay inside and feel like we’ve made the wrong call, or we go out and are confronted with the reality of our dreamy sepia-toned visions.

Because the truth is, you will not sip beer in a pub garden, peacefully looking out from behind your sunglasses.

You will arrive at the pub to find it absolutely heaving. All outdoor seats will be taken by an assortment of stylish mums with giant jugs of Pimm’s and lad lad lads wearing football shirts.

You will awkwardly hover by a table in the hopes that someone will leave soon.

You will wait ages to order a pint that ends up not being cold enough, and then remember you don’t even really like beer.

You will feel that you have to stay for a while, but as your palms get clammy and the sunlight gives you a pounding headache, you must eventually give up and go home. But that would be admitting defeat, so instead you will stay out, hating every moment but telling yourself this is a lovely summer treat. It’s not.

Or you could attempt a trip to the park to do some nice sitting. You will search desperately for a shaded area, entirely defeating the point of ‘making the most of the sun’, but be unable to find a spot thanks to the crowds of teenagers and small children eating tubs of melted chocolate treats from M&S.

If you do manage to plonk yourself down somewhere, you’ll almost immediately wonder when it’s acceptable to leave again, knowing full well you’ll just play on your phone in the exact same way you could do in the comfort of your own home, but with the fun bonus of getting sunburn on your neck and ant bites on your feet (hobbit-ish feet that are quite clearly not sandal-ready and that will cause you a deep, unspeakable shame).

You’ll decide to venture out for some food, braving the horror of public transport – others’ body heat creeping through you and your sweat slick on the pole to which you hang on – only to find that every cafe is rammed and no food sounds like a good idea. Burgers, pizza, a kebab? All too hot to even consider. A salad? Miserable.

You will force something down and feel even hotter and more bloated, wanting only to curl up under some blankets but knowing this will cause you greater pain.

The awfulness of a hot day relies on the idea that we should all be having a great time, when in reality, deep down, we know that we hate the heat.

We hate the sweat and the discomfort and the inescapability of it. We hate wearing floaty linen and long for boots and jumpers. We’d really prefer to have our usual Sunday roast rather than attempt the faff of a nice picnic.

We force ourselves into routines that don’t fit who we are one tiny bit, because if we don’t we feel like summer spoilsports.

I say it’s time to end this madness.

Hot weather sucks and it is entirely reasonable to be miserable the second the temperature rises. It’s uncomfortable, it makes you feel gross and a bit sick, and there’s far too much pressure to do things that aren’t nearly as fun as they sound.

Oh, and it reminds you that the earth is burning and we’re all hurtling towards the the end of the world. Great.

Let’s just admit the truth: Hot weather is awful and we’re all just going to stay inside and groan until it’s over.

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