Flat broke…

I’m not one to complain about the weather but my flat is so hot it’s making me irritable.
I have a fan in the bedroom but the air is hanging like a cheap rainbow nylon sheet.
We have the balcony doors open and I’m wearing nothing but my modesty, the trouble is when I sit on the settee I stick to it, I peel myself off like velcro.
Jim’s watching late tennis and I’m threatening to go to bed except I will not sleep.
My hair line is moist and my reserves low.
We went to see Arcadia: Tom Stoppards play, at the Duke of York. The audience were clever, affluent and didn’t let on if they didn’t understand it.
Jim’s cleverer than me and I’ve got a modicum of nous but we both had trouble following it. At one stage my head cracked back, that dreadful click that happens when you fall asleep. I apologised to the American girl sitting next to me for fidgeting.
Neil Pearsons performance was fab, the other actors were okay, Sam cox was good but I’m afraid after a hard day at the office it needs more than they could give to keep my interest.
In fact the air con was so effective I think I may elect to go back there tomorrow night at least I know I’ll get a good nights kip.