I finally asked a friend of mine about this very, very wet drought and she responded that the rain was apparently 'the wrong kind of rain'. Of course it is.
But then, suddenly, magically, it was 40 degrees one day and 80 the next (literally). And the last two days, it has been truly glorious. I mean, y'all, I was sweating. I *never* sweat in London. And I wore my tank tops!! Which had been sadly shoved to the back of a drawer, a memory of what it felt like to be warm and happy.
And I loved it so much. I didn't realize how depressed by the weather I had become until I felt the heat on my cheeks. It felt like I was finally coming out of the darkness.
It's supposed to be this gorgeous for the next 10 days and beyond. I wonder how many parks I can pack into one day? I plan on spending days lounging in the sun with a good book in all of London's gorgeous parks...my reward for not turning into a homicidal maniac for the last seven weeks. I think that's a fair trade!