It's June and I can see my breath, amongst other complaints.

I'm sitting in my bed right now wearing a curmudgeonly scowl and a really cute blue dress.  I am not unhappy, because there are several nice things in my periphery at the moment:  the chocolate, cream-filled choux bun I ate for breakfast; the cup of tea I plan on making soon; the fact that I washed my hair yesterday and so didn't have to bathe today - all of these things bring me joy.  And yet, it is June and I can't quite reconcile the view outside my window with the June of my imagination.  Here is June in my mind:  it's so bright and sunny you must constantly squint with joy, while waves of heat shimmer off the pavement and ice cream must be eaten everyday, and the cute dresses I wear are actually summer dresses (and not a cool-weather dress re-adapted for un-summery summer weather) that have diaphanous effects, and everything is coloured pink and yellow and green and blue and I am tanned, Lord love me!  And yet, currently, it is cold and grey and threatening more of yesterday's torrential rain, while builders are hacking the facade off the house with hand-held jackhammers that fill my environment with dust and noise pollution - all of which I was not adequately informed of prior to commencement.  Also, I'm hungry, and I do not have a personal chef at hand, nor do I want to cook in my dust-filled kitchen.  Waaah!  Grumpy Bunny.  It's just occurred to me that readers most likely do not want to hear my grumpy gripes, so I apologise if you find this post tedious and I promise to write a joyful one just as soon as the sun comes out.  Deal?  Deal.