So SAD, it's tragic

An hour ago I peered out of the window and was shocked to see a large white burning ball in the sky. Other people were looking, too, standing out on the street and exclaiming to one another. Could it be a UFO or close encounter with some unearthly being? No! It was the sun, back from its holiday in South Africa or wherever its been hanging out lately. What a transformation! Even the dog urine-spattered snow piled up at the roadsides is glinting and glistening. The birds in my apple tree are flitting wildly from twig to twig. I wouldn't be surprised to hear a lawnmower starting up (stranger things have happened).

I used to make jokes about people with SAD, but now that I am part of their serried ranks I regret my former quips and lack of sympathy. How could I have been so callous? It is a true disorder and the worst thing is that there's absolutely nothing you can do about it, apart from emigrating, which is, let's face it, not practical for most SAD sufferers, otherwise they would have already done so. Or you could try one of those solar face lamp things, but aren't they bad for your skin? You just have to grimace and bear it.

At least the jolly Bavarian radio presenters acknowledge the condition. I have the feeling that the drearier the weather, the more they ramp up their eighties fever playlists. I caught myself singing along to 'Eye of the Tiger' (Survivor - but you knew that, right?) earlier. Horrifyingly, I knew all the words. In my defence I think it is because it was the theme tune to Rocky IV, which I saw several times during my teenage crush on Sylvester-I'm-beginning-to-look-just-like-my-mom-Stallone.

Wow - there's even a patch of blue sky now. I'd better get out there and catch some rays before it's too late.