Forgive me the blasphemy but I simply have to say it: Goddamn you, impending summer. Like the high school flirt, you walk around the block and our instant reaction is to smile at you and flush red with delight when you smile back and light up our life with sunshine and the promise of something just a little better than what we had yesterday - which was rain and pre-teen temperatures.
But as summer struts closer, the self-doubt and scrutiny sets in; are we good enough for her? Are we ready? Can we take off our clothes and bare our pasty winter bodies to her after so many cold winter nights with only chocolate to keep us company?
The answer is a big fat "no". Though we all want her, none of us feels ready for summer, and like so many high school flirts, she knows it, too.
In late October, when the running shoes are only just being dusted off and you haven't yet broken up with the TV remote in order to make room in your life for summer, you get a surprise visitor.
Six weeks early she's there to surprise you as you step out of the office in your winter-weight pants ... all 25C of her, so hot you break into a sweat that makes your clothes cling in all the wrong places. So you strip off all the outer layers in a bid to be cool, rocking the merino singlet as though it was meant to be worn on the outside.