Top Ten First World Problems for a Girl on the Hottest Day of the Year

  • Hair Styling: When exiting my freezing shower I began to tremble with fear.  Not long from now I will have to attempt blow drying my hair, which in reality will be a lot cooler than the air that I am sitting in.  Yet I can’t do it and manage to air dry my long mane within five minutes of being in the car.
  • Clammy Commute: Why is it that even when you have air conditioning in your car that you still exit with a patch that resembles a doggy accident seeping through your cute thin vest top?  What grinds me more is that this seems to happen on route to work at 7am.  I could deal with gross sweat patches on the way home that way my half an hour drive fantasy world would consist solely of a crisp, cold shower to erase the sticky sweat day.  No, it has to happen first thing when I have to deal with that one morsel of fabric that refuses to abandon its new relationship with my sweat riddled skin.
  • Attire: When deciding that it’s too hot to be wearing a tight pair of leggings or the pants found in the bargain bins in Primark for work, you choose a skirt.  This to me is a sensible option, no polyester to adhere to the undesirable creases in your arse just cotton loveliness.  What I neglected to consider was the chafing, oh the chafing.  I am pretty sure that I have shaved off any hairs that may have been left from my morning shave merely from climbing the first flight of stairs at work.  Lanacane anyone?
  • Face Paint: Stupidly believing that because I have dabbled in make-up that cost more than £2 per item that it wouldn’t slide right off my face.  By 10am I have the look of a sunbed loving panda…and I hadn’t packed my emergency make-up bag to work.  Shit.
  • Scent: At the moment I have an unrelenting love for Lancome’s La Vie Est Belle, however, within an hour of being at work I have acquired the scent of summer.  This particular scent is a mixture of sweat, wet clothes and cheese.  I know, it’s gross but it is the truth.
  • Damp Knickers: No, not the good kind.  Today for the first time I found that when you wear a skirt with an exceptionally cheap lace thong from Primark (I really need to shop elsewhere) in thirty degree heat that you will gain a somewhat squidgy feeling between the thighs.  It isn’t pleasant, but it amused me greatly when I ended up sticking the fan under my desk for some form of relief.  Who knew women could experience the old sweaty Betty nether regions too hey?
  • Glasses Avalanche: Now, I am aware that this will not be a concern for all women out there, but for the ones who are sight challenged you will get me.  So, after running up and down the stairs twenty times with bags weighing five kilos a pop I was becoming increasingly aggravated about my loss of eyesight.  The old goggles managed to slide off my nose at least fifteen times.  My grease bucket of a face managed to hold onto nothing but grime today.  This is the real first world problems right here.
  • Grease Bucket: I have lovingly named my face this for years, my little grease bucket that enables nothing to stay on it other than pimples and black heads.  I constantly have to battle to keep my make-up from turning into an orange whirlpool at the centre of my forehead.  My living nightmare is the T-zone, it does nothing but cause me pain and suffering (dramatic maybe, but I have reasons).  During this time of year foundation is completely out of the question, so I have to leave my pores wide open for sweat related clogging thus inducing adult acne.  Do you know what?  I am going to leave it there, I can’t take it.
  • Sliding Sandals: How the hell are you supposed to conduct a normal life in this heat when the majority of sandals (yes, Primark) have soles with the texture of an eel?  I spent most of my day looking like I was trying to recreate a scene from Frozen while simultaneously attempting to hold some form of decorum seeing as I am a manager.
  • After Work Activities: My situation is a pain in the arse, I moved from my home town to live with my lovely boyfriend.  However, my job, friends and most of my life is still in my home town.  So when I am at work I tend to make social arrangements for when I finish to save on time and petrol.  This is one of the most horrific dilemmas to me during the height of summer.  After spending a day on my feet running around like an Olympic blue arsed fly the only thing that I am thinking about is a cold shower.  The sticky feeling that has taken over my entire body has become too much to bare and the only thing that will relieve me of my personal hell is so far out of my reach that I can feel the squeaks of emotion trying to escape from my mouth.  I have to meet a friend straight after work, no shower and lots of uncomfortable feelings.  We are all the same in this respect, the last thing we want is to be in a pub and feeling uncomfortable.  It’s not like I want a salon style blow dry or a Clinique applied face, I merely want to feel clean.  Yet there I was, grasping onto my ice cold drink desperately wanting to throw it over my head.

Then, at 8pm my dreams had come true.  The shower was on full blast, the cold air hit me like a Titanic style iceberg – heaven.

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