Indecisive seasons

As I sit here in the internet cafe mercifully out of the way of the sunlight streaming in the window and heating up the table beside me I realise that yet again I have misjudged the weather here and really should be wearing less clothes. Technically it's winter. The other morning whilst waiting to start work and freezing my arse off because I was wearing shorts I thought to myself that I shouldn't be so surprised given the season but you can't really take that for granted round here. On my day off on Sunday I went to the beach with my new toy boy and another friend and had to retreat to the shade at one point because it was so warm (the sea on the other hand was freezing, whatever possessed me to actually listen to the boy already in the sea that it was ok and the best thing to do was to jump straight in I'll never know). Then, swiftly - and, most importantly, freezingly - the clouds rolled in and the wind picked up and we were soon hurrying back to the safety of the hostel to warm up. Once there, I changed out of my skirt and skimpy top into jeans and a hoody and started out to the IGA. It's only a 5 minute walk but I was nearly expiring when I got there as the clouds, and the spattering of rain, had passed and it was yet again tropical heat, the bouganvillias waving gently in the dying breeze as I warily watched the coconuts in the palm trees above me. As I prepare to do battle with the heat outside all I can think is that one day, maybe, I'll actually get it right when I get dressed. Somehow, though, I doubt it.