#oneaday Day 763: My brain has melted

It's been unbearably hot again today. The thing I hate the most about unbearably hot weather is how lethargic it makes you in both body and mind. It has cooled off a fair bit now the sun has gone down, but my brain is still in a semi-liquid state, meaning it is proving enormously difficult to make myself do anything, even if the anything I choose to do is enjoyable.

skull with brain — Photo by Sami Aksu on Pexels.com

(That said, I'm here, aren't I? So maybe it's all starting to solidify again a bit.)

Patti, being a black cat with a fairly dense coat, has been suffering a bit in the heat, I think. She has taken to spending most of the day in what we call her "hole" — a little bit of the catio that attaches to the cat flap in the back of the house, and which is now a nice shady spot because Andie has put a bunch of seedling trays on top of it. She seems fairly content when she's in there, and she's up, about and active when the worst of the day's heat has passed by, so perhaps she just has the right idea — sleep through the worst of the heat and get up to cause mischief as the sun starts to set. And yes, she's getting plenty of water and the opportunity to cool off in the air conditioned bedroom whenever she wants.

Oliver, meanwhile, has been just fine. He's very much back to his old self: full of energy and mischief, and putting across the distinct impression that he doesn't even know what the word "sad" means. I am glad. I was concerned that his experiences living rough for three weeks might have traumatised him in some way — and perhaps they have — but he certainly seems to have adjusted back to life with us perfectly well.

The only real change we've seen in him — aside from all the weight he had lost when we first found him, which he's mostly put back on again now — is that he seemingly wants to be near one or both of us the vast majority of the time. He doesn't necessarily have to be interacting with us directly — sometimes he just wants to sit on the floor in the hallway near where we're working, or lying on the floor in the spare room next to my study, knowing that I'm there. He also follows me around the house even more than he did previously, which is adorable, but I do worry that one day I will trip right over him!

Andie is also suffering a bit, as she's on some medications that make it difficult for her to regulate her temperature, which I'm sure you can probably appreciate are not ideal to be taking in the middle of a heatwave. I am… kind of sort of OK, aside from the melty brain predicament I described at the start of this post. I often catch myself just sort of staring into space, wanting to go and do something fun, but having great difficulty mustering up the energy and enthusiasm to do so. Still, acknowledging that I am doing this thing, much like I acknowledge elements of my self, thoughts and feelings in therapy, is a helpful step towards breaking out of that cycle and going to do something.

The next challenge I need to tackle is exactly what to spend the remainder of the evening on. I could play some more Soul Blazer, or some Final Fantasy XI, or some Rhythm Paradise Groove, or some Star Fox, or…

Oh dear. I think my brain melted again.

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

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#oneaday Day 750: Cooling and cat-proofing

The heat wave we've been suffering all week appears to have broken; outside is a relatively normal-feeling temperature right now, the humidity is down to levels where it's actually possible to breathe, and the sky has taken on a typically British summertime partially overcast look. It's really quite pleasant; if it could just stay like this, that would be absolutely lovely.

The view through the patio doors as I type this.

Andie has been spending some time putting up window screens, which will have the dual purpose of "cat-proofing" the windows and allowing us to cool the house down somewhat by actually having the windows open. Obviously we are not keen for any sort of repeat of the last three weeks, so we are hoping that this particular solution — some seemingly well-crafted screens for the windows, attached to the frames via Velcro — will prove adequate. Oliver has not yet attempted to escape through one of the open windows and the house is significantly cooler than it has been for the past few days, so it's looking like we might be on to a winner.

Of course, we're still both extremely worried that he will somehow find his way out again, particularly if he succeeds in figuring out how to remove the window screens — if, indeed, he figures out that is a thing that is possible. Thus far he has shown no interest in wanting to move or scratch them — indeed, both cats have mostly just seemed appreciative that they can enjoy a bit of fresh air coming into the house, particularly now that there is a bit of a breeze coming in from outside, rather than the oppressively still and humid air of the last few days.

It is good to be able to leave the air-conditioned bedroom and enjoy a relatively normal existence in the rest of the house. Today I have mostly been playing the new Star Fox, which you can read more about over on MoeGamer. It's also actually our wedding anniversary today, but we never make a particularly big deal out of that. We are grateful to our respective parents for their generous financial gifts, however; those are going a significant way towards us being able to have another holiday in September as a "do-over" of the one we just had — and hopefully this time without the anxiety of a missing little ginger twat.

Oliver himself appears to have pretty much made a full recovery. He is behaving just like he used to — right down to showing an unhealthy interest in batting my Senran Kagura collection off the shelves in the living room — and is jumping up to his favourite high places, including the top shelf in the catio and the top of our media cabinet. He hasn't yet been back up to the very top of his cat tree, however; he's been most of the way up, but not all of the way up. We think he's dealing with a combination of still being a bit weak in his back legs (something the vet mentioned) and potentially still having a bit of trauma over being stuck up an actual tree, and thus perhaps not wanting to climb too high. His back legs are a lot stronger than they were already, however; he's been jumping up onto things without issue, and playing with things like the silly little deeply, deeply loved kitten he is.

Patti has also mostly adjusted to Oliver's return. She is still hissing at him a bit if he gets too close, but one gets the impression her heart really isn't in it. Earlier today, Oliver went right up to her and rubbed his face on her, and she hissed quietly, but didn't attack him and didn't actually appear to be all that bothered. I think she just feels obliged to appear mad at him, because she absolutely definitely won't admit that she was missing him and pining for him while he was absent.

Anyway, all in all, it has been a pleasant Saturday, and in the knowledge that some of the most difficult, time-consuming and challenging projects at work are now pretty much done, I actually feel like I can properly relax for the first time in quite a while! I recommend it.

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#oneaday Day 718: Melting

I cursed it. The other day, I said to Andie, "oh, it hasn't been obscenely hot this year yet, has it?" and literally the day after, it became obscenely hot. The air conditioner for the bedroom has come out, the fans are on full blast, and just general existence is suffering right now.

a city during sunset — Photo by Fatih Turan on Pexels.com

Naturally, all the usual arguments are taking place over whether or not people from the UK really have a right to complain about it being hot, given that certain parts of the world are far hotter than it gets here, and they get by perfectly well without air conditioning, what happened to that stiff upper lip and all that, eh what? To anyone having thoughts of that nature, I say a hearty fuck off, it is boiling here and we, as a people, are very much Not Built For That.

We are a people built for overcast days, where the weather just sort of exists in the background without doing anything. We don't mind an occasional rainstorm, because that means we can complain about it. But when it gets hot — and for a good few years now, the summers have been getting real hot — it is actively unpleasant, and quite possibly dangerous for some people. One of the people I work with said that the temperature was almost 40 degrees C in his office today. That is not any sort of condition that a human being should even be attempting to exist in!

But still. At least it's a good opportunity to get the ice out, have some cold drinks, enjoy an ice cream or ten and occasionally sit in the garden if you think you can get away with doing so without irradiating yourself beyond repair. Maybe even have a barbecue! Some people in the nearby vicinity have been having barbecues over the past couple of days and they have smelled delicious. We have not, as yet, planned to do one, because neither of us fancy standing over a hot thing on a hot day, and with only a couple of weeks left until we go away on holiday, the opportunities for socialising before we head off are limited. Maybe when we get back.

Anyway, aside from the heat, today has been relatively unremarkable. I have done some work, I have played some Final Fantasy XI, I enjoyed a chicken sandwich with some Sweet Baby Ray's barbecue sauce. The cats have been yelling at us, and all is, it seems, mostly well.

It's just too bloody hot, is what it is!

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#oneaday Day 460: A rainy day in the forest

It has rained most of today. I'm not complaining; it's been nice for the heat that we've been enduring for the past few months to break, and I've always been rather fond of the look and feel of a forest during the rain, particularly if you have a decent amount of shelter and/or the appropriate clothing to protect you — both of which we have, because we are English, and we are always prepared for torrential downpours, even in the height of summer.

It's been a relatively unremarkable day today, and that's just fine with me. I went down to the gym earlier and did a bit of stuff there, then caught the "land train" back to near our accommodation. The term "land train" always seems a bit redundant; most trains go on land. What they really mean here is "road train", given that it's a train that goes on roads rather than rails. Regardless of what they call it, though, it's a nice way of getting around the forest, and means you don't have to walk everywhere. This is good, because the site here is pretty large, and the topography varies quite wildly in one particular area, so it's nice to be able to jump on something that means you don't have to stagger up steep hills after, say, doing a workout that your body really isn't used to.

We spent much of the rest of the day in the lodge. I played Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore, which I've had on my shelf for a while, and seemed like a nice holiday game. I reckon I could have probably polished the whole thing off in an afternoon, but I've called it a day for now, so there's a bit left to play tomorrow.

I haven't taken many photos as yet — while I love the forest surroundings, I tend to find that one shot of a bunch of trees tends to look like every other shot of a bunch of trees if you take too many, but if you're curious, here's a few little photos for you to enjoy:

This is a photo of a bunch of trees, as taken from the aforementioned "land train". While there is a lot of accommodation here, it's integrated very nicely into the forest, so there's usually at least one direction you can look in and see nothing but trees. Very nice indeed.

Here's where we're staying. It's an "Executive Lodge", which means it's slightly posher than the one we stayed in last time. That means it's a bit roomier, it has two toilets (one for pooing!) and a bubbly jacuzzi "hydrobath" in the bathroom. This is a noisy thing that… well, it makes your bath bubble like you're perpetually farting in it, but it's nice and relaxing for brief periods, particularly when combined with something relaxing in the water like a bath bomb. Andie and I have a tradition of stopping by Lush before a trip to Center Parcs and grabbing a few bath bombs to enjoy while we're here — I have indeed been doing just that for the past couple of days.

Here's a mildly artful shot by Andie showing a regular visitor to our patio (we absolutely, definitely haven't encouraged this with the judicious application of walnuts) framed by an empty glass and some Peperami ketchup bottles. (The Firestick one is really good!) According to Andie, the squirrel's name is Susan, though we don't actually know what its gender is, because we don't know how to tell that in squirrels. The Sword in the Stone led me to believe that lady squirrels had long eyelashes and sobbed over their loved ones, but I have seen no evidence of this.

Oh! And yes, I watched The Black Cauldron last night. As expected, it deviated significantly from the plots of the first two Chronicles of Prydain books, but it stood quite nicely as a story in its own right, so long as you don't get too sniffy about certain details of it. In the books, for example, Taran is completely unable to wield the magic sword Dyrnwyn, but in the movie he unleashes its full power with no difficulty whatsoever. Also, the one who sacrifices themselves to finally destroy the Cauldron once and for all at the end is completely different between the book and film, too, largely because the movie is a strange hodgepodge of influences from those first two books, discarding significant amounts of both in favour of making one nicely standalone movie.

In a way, I think this is probably for the best. We've all seen what happens when one story gets stretched out over multiple movies — be it whatever the fuck the Marvel cinematic universe is doing these days, or even the numerous Peter Jackson Tolkien adaptations. You can go a bit far in that regard; Disney's approach of acknowledging that books and animated movies are very different forms of media and thus have different requirements to tell their stories seemed to work well.

Anyway, we're hoping to get up at a reasonable hour and go for a swim tomorrow. We've also booked a session at the ultra-posh "Aqua Sana" spa for Saturday, so that will be a particularly luxurious opportunity to rest, relax and enjoy ourselves. In between, I'm sure we'll occupy ourselves appropriately. With that in mind, it's probably a good time to head bedwards for me!

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#oneaday Day 386: Suboptimal creativity temperature

It is somewhere in the region of 27-28 degrees C here today. I know this is laughable to people who live in the actual desert or tropics or whatever, but it's bloody boiling here in the land of no (well, more like very little these days) air conditioning.

The heat is exhausting, but it's also quite nice. With the stuff Andie has done in the garden, it's really nice to just go and sit either out in the catio or on the nice garden furniture down at the bottom of the garden. We bought a nice parasol from Ikea the other day, so we can sit in the shade when down at the bottom of the garden, and the catio has a certain degree of shade by virtue of it being enclosed.

Trouble is, with it being quite nice to just go and sit in the garden and bask in the heat, it's not exactly conducive to getting anything done. I feel like I want to make some videos, but summoning up the motivation to do so is proving exceedingly troublesome, because doing so will mean locking myself in my study, and there's not much in the way of ventilation in there unless I blast the fans up full (which interferes with voice recording a bit) or have the window open (which brings in outside noise).

It's not so much the practicality of the situation as it is just the sense of lethargy that this heat brings. My brain is saying "let's go", but my body is just going "I want to melt into the sofa". So I think what I might try and do is spend a bit of the daytime scripting some bits and pieces, then once the sun goes down, maybe record into the evening tonight. Then I can spend the remaining daylight hours sitting by the fan doing very little.

The other problem is that the mental lethargy brought about by this heat is it makes making any sort of decision difficult. Do I want to continue with my playthrough of The Sword of Hope? Do I want to do some Atari ST stuff? Do I want to do some Atari 8-bit stuff? Do I want to do some Evercade stuff? Part of the problem is that the answer to all of those is "yes", but from a practical perspective I should probably just pick one or two and be content with that, rather than feeling like I "have" to churn out two, three, four or more videos.

Anyway, when I'm done here I'm going to make that decision, make some notes on what I want to cover, then once the sun dips behind the horizon and things get a little cooler, I might just go and record something. Or I might just leave it until tomorrow. I guess it doesn't really matter all that much.

In the meantime, Xenoblade Chronicles X is a-callin'.

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2508: The Cough of an Eighty Year Old Man

I am ill.

I do not like being ill, because it is annoying and painful, particularly when it is that particular breed of "ill" somewhere between a cold and flu that causes you to feel constantly stuffed up and occasionally cough like an eighty year old smoker. Also I have the shits.

It is not a pleasant day to be ill, either. Andie's phone claimed it was -7C outside earlier and while I tend to take phone weather readings with a pinch of salt, the fact that it is still visibly frosty outside leads me to believe that yes, it certainly is at least a bit cold out there. Meg the cat certainly let me know that it was cold when I let her in just now.

I have spent the morning in bed accompanied by one or both of our cats at all times. I'm always amazed at quite how well cats understand people; they know exactly when you're not feeling great, whether it's physically, mentally or both, and they know that what you often need in such situations is company and affection. Ruby, who is typically the more irritating of our two cats, rather fond of walking across your face when you're trying to do something, sat with me quietly and peacefully for most of the morning, even curling up and settling down for a bit, which is rather rare to see her do.

I'm up now and craving nothing more than "ill person food". Specifically, I'm feeling a steak slice, nice crisps (Walkers Max!) and some chocolate might help with the doldrums of being ill, accompanied by plenty of Lemsip, of course.

This is a singularly tedious blog post, I'm aware, as there are few things more boring than listening to someone else talk about how ill they are — I've heard enough complaints from my parents about my grandmother having such conversations with them to know this all too well — but, well, it's something to do now that I appear to have exhausted my capacity for lying in bed wheezing all morning. Now I am on the couch beneath a blanket like a homeless person while Andie puts up the Christmas tree and decorations, because now it's December, it is an acceptable time to do so.

Time to dose up on drugs and steak slices, I think, and hopefully I'll feel a bit better tomorrow.

1989: Temperature of the Sun

It is hot. Not just a bit hot (i.e. over 20 degrees or so, at which point most Brits will start commenting that it's "a bit warm") but really hot. Andie's car claimed that it was 39 degrees earlier and while I take that figure with a pinch of salt, it's almost definitely at least well into the mid-30s.

I don't like it when it's hot. I don't like it when it's cold, either, but I think if I had to be too hot or too cold all the time, I'd plump for too cold, because at least you can put extra layers on or whatever. When it's too hot, there's very little you can do about it.

I mean, sure, you can spray yourself with water, sit in front of a fan or whatever. But there's nothing that will stave off that eventual, extremely unpleasant feeling of sweating from pretty much every pore you have until your clothes are damp with your own gross, disgusting sweat; that point where you hope no-one brushes up against you or asks to shake your hand because you just know that you'll stick to them in an embarrassing manner.

The one redeeming feature of horrible, hot, humid days like today is that they often lead to satisfying, pleasant warm rain showers that are delightful to stand out in. But no amount of warm rain is really enough to make up for the amount of discomfort that it being way too hot creates.

Hopefully it will be a bit cooler tomorrow. I'd rather not melt, but at this rate I feel like I'm going to.

1758: Those Winter Nights

I'm beginning to think that there's not really any part of the year that is what I'd call "ideal" conditions in this country. The summer months are far too hot, and the winter months we're moving into now are far too cold, wet, windy and just generally irritating.

There's a special kind of unpleasantness about winter, though. As I sit here typing this, the weather outside can probably be best described as sounding "hostile". The wind is blowing, picking up and howling through the streets and alleyways; the rain is falling, drenching everything and turning anything that isn't concreted over into a swampy mire of brown gunge; there's a draught coming in from somewhere around the window that I haven't managed to identify as yet.

Not only that, but we're at that time of year where, assuming you go out to work, you're probably leaving your house when it's dark and not getting back until it's dark either. All in all, it's a fairly bleak time of the year, and it's unsurprising that it puts some people in dark moods.

I'm not sure what changed my outlook. When I was young, I used to quite like winter. I used to enjoy the early darkness and the necessity to carry a torch around — I must confess I still do have an odd liking for wielding a torch, even if it's only an improvised one using my phone's flash — and I used to like wrapping up in layers to be immune to the waves of cold in the air. I used to enjoy the run-up to the Christmas period, complete with village carol singing and the inevitability of being invited in for brandy and mince pies at least once or twice during our nightly tours of the mean streets of Great Gransden. I never used to really notice the bleakness.

So what changed? I wonder. Perhaps it's just the fact that my life is very different to how it was when I was younger; the fact that now, rather than living the carefree life of a child, I have my own responsibilities and anxieties to worry about, including the necessity of getting up and going out — often in horrible weather — to get to work on time, then getting home in often equally horrible weather only to slump down, pretty tired out and not really desirous of doing anything other than something that doesn't require a huge amount of mental activity.

Perhaps I'm just not quite in the rhythm of the full-time job set just yet. I've been doing pretty well, though; I've managed to maintain my routine of getting up earlier than I was, leaving earlier than I was and usually missing the bulk of the traffic of a morning and sometimes in the evening too. This puts me in a somewhat more positive frame of mind, even if the weather is as hostile as it sounds like it is as I type this. There's still that ever-present feeling of tiredness, of slogging on towards some as-yet unknown destination. But that's just how life works for the vast majority of the population; I should probably get used to it.

I have an away-day for work tomorrow. Not really relishing the prospect of having to stay overnight, but at least the accommodation is paid for (albeit in boardings described by one reviewer on TripAdvisor as "like a prison camp, only dirtier") and we're getting fed. And then at the end of this week Andie and I are taking a short break at Center Parcs over in Longleat for her birthday treat. I'm looking forward to that, so I guess there's the objective for this week, if nothing else.

On that note, then, it's time to wrap up warm, snuggle down under the duvet and get some sleep for a horrendously even-earlier-than-the-new-usual start tomorrow morning. Expect a grumpy post from my phone tomorrow evening, and the comics will be back the day after assuming I don't just collapse from exhaustion the moment I get back in.

1265: Warmness

It is extremely hot here at the moment. Judging by Twitter this evening, this particular climatic condition is not isolated solely to Southampton, but this doesn't make me feel that much better.

I'm currently writing this post on my phone because for some frustrating reason our Internet has gone down. I've rebooted the router several times and it's still not playing with us. I'm not entirely sure why I'm telling you this, but writing a post on my phone like this tends to put me in "stream of consciousness" mode more than anything else. (The WordPress app still doesn't have a word count facility, either, so I just keep banging on until it "feels" about the right length.)

Family Guy is currently on BBC3. I do quite like Family Guy, but the frustrating way about its being broadcast on BBC3 is that whatever dribbling idiot is in charge of the scheduling for that otherwise atrocious station clearly has no idea how to broadcast something in chronological order and without repeating the same episode at least twice a week, sometimes more. These are all repeats anyway, so there's really no need for this repetition, particularly when iPlayer is a thing that exists.

I say I quite like Family Guy, but there is one exception: that fucking episode with Surfin' Bird. It was doubly annoying when it was on recently, because, as mentioned above, it was on twice in one week. I wasn't even watching it and it irritated me. I know that episode is supposed to be irritating, but it just goes much too far in its irritation factor.

Anyway, my concentration is shot right now due to the combination of typing this on my phone, Family Guy on the TV, Andie playing Animal Crossing next to me and the rats playing in their cage at the end of the bed. (We brought them into the bedroom so they could have some company, and also because it's slightly cooler in here; they don't seem to like the heat all that much!)

As such, I'm going to call that a night there. Hopefully our Internetz will be back tomorrow, which will allow me to type something on a proper computer rather than using just my thumbs!

#oneaday Day 920: Zu Heiss

[No cartoon tonight — the Mac (on which Comic Life is installed) is currently installing Mountain Lion!]

It is hot. Really hot. I know, I know, it's nothing compared to feeling your brain melt out of your ears in the desert, and nothing compared to what would happen if you couldn't find a nice shady spot on Mercury, but it's still really hot.

Hot weather is widely regarded by people as a positive thing. Everyone gets all excited about the onset of summer and the prospect of sitting out in the garden slowly irradiating yourself to death. But you know what? Balls to that. Hot weather sucks, and I can't wait for it to 1) piss it down with rain and 2) get back to the normal overcast weather for which this country is so well-known.

My feelings on this matter may be partially due to the fact that I got a bit burnt and suffered some mild heatstroke on the wekend — though thankfully nothing compared to the time I went to Gran Canaria for a couple of weeks and came back looking like I'd changed ethnicity (apart from my bum and associated front regions). The weather is just so damn oppressive right now — stepping outside the front door feels like stepping into an airless greenhouse. It's hard to breathe, it's exhausting to do anything and it's just plain unpleasant. And, this being the UK, we're not as enlightened regarding air conditioning as our American cousins, which means going indoors rarely helps very much, either. In fact, at several times over the last few days, it's actually ended up being even hotter indoors (particularly upstairs) than it has been outdoors.

Honestly. I can't wait for it to cool down. It just makes me not want to do anything except sit directly in front of a fan sucking on ice cubes and chugging back anything in a can that has been in a fridge for at least six hours.

Of course, the moment the temperature drops, I'll probably complain that it's too cold, too wet or too something else, so the weather can't win really, unless it's just sort of "nondescript" rather than hot, cold, wet or any combination thereof. Fortunately, as I said previously, the UK is particularly good at weather that is best described as "nondescript". A grey sky, no rain, no snow, no sleet, perhaps a gentle breeze (but not too much) — that's what I can live with.

Perhaps I should move somewhere like Scotland. The weather there seemed to be like that all the time on every occasion I've been there. But then, of course, I'd live in Scotland, which I have nothing against per se, but would somewhat stand in the way of my objective to move back closer to where my friends are.

Perhaps I'll just invent some sort of environmental suit with built-in climate control. That sounds like the ideal solution, really. Now, just to strip the air conditioning unit out of Andie's car while she's not looking…