The sun is too bright to dampen my spirits.
I don't remember ever being this excited about a season change.
I know I'm alarmingly pale, my glo-white skin does not take well to copious amounts of sunlight, but I don't particularly care.
I woke up this morning feeling uncomfortably warm in bed. Not a 'I think I wet the bed' uncomfortably warm, but a 'winter is nearly gone and my blankets are too heavy' uncomfortably warm. This was when the excitement started.
I got to wear a floral dress, without stockings. I even boldly left the house without a 'just in case' cardigan. I saw police riding up my street on bicycles, their shorts and summer shirts reiterating that the weather is too nice to be inside.
My iPod played songs reminiscent of summer and alluding to sunlight.
My lecture even referenced tuberculosis treatment of the 1920's and how it was decided that patients should bathe in sunlight every day. Surely it's a sign.
I sat on the grass for lunch, forgoing sun-safety. I figure that the last few months of sunless days and closed up clothing entitles me to a few days in the outdoors - and I was wearing sunscreen, which I assume allows me bonus minutes of ultraviolet, please.
I'm not the only one that's excited. Everyone's talking about it. I'm thinking of the longer days, the hot nights, and pretty dresses. We're planning early escapes to the beach, working out how long we could spend on the sand before being back for a 3pm studio - roughly two hours, for those of you playing at home.
Nothing could make today seem less happy.
Not a bad hair day.
Not spilling an entire kilo of fine white sugar on my freshly mopped kitchen floor.
Not even my dress blowing up towards my head as I walked towards a friendly neighbourhood man. Perhaps now he'll be even friendlier.