I'd rather be snorkeling in a tropical bay, triggerfish swimming in front of me, palms swaying on the beach behind me. Instead, I'm freezing my ass off waiting to leave the flat so that I can go do something. What, I'm not sure, because I'm not at all in the mood to do anything other than sit at home and read, but I suspect I'll end up at Kew with Dan so that I can show him the mature monkey puzzle trees I saw in August.
Could be worse. I could be in Moldova again, where they probably haven't even turned on the central heating this year.