It feels like it’s been dark for about three years now.
Combine that with biblical storms and one’s inner self reaches out for a mere morsel to drag the sorry soul through the remaining months of a miserable winter.
Just the thought of sun on your face, sand between your toes and a devilishly cold beer in your hand awakens the spirit and gives you hope.
The holiday companies prey on the weak like a hawk picking off a scurrying vole with asthma – it’s not a particularly hard sell.
But put down the phone, stop surfing getmetojamicaforaquid.com and say good riddance to those coach trips to Rhyl.
That’s because 2014 is going to be all about the south coast.
I’ve received a red-hot tip from an associate, who has given me a tin foil guarantee that this summer is going to be a belter.
Her husband trades in London and basically his job is to invest unthinkable amounts of other people’s money in all sorts of stock.
She divulged the ins and outs, but I lost interest after the phrase ‘venture capital’ had been shoehorned into swathes of intelligent nonsense.
My interest was reawakened when she said the city was predicting a drought in Europe this year.
Her husband had been formally advised not to invest money in perishables. The reason? A combination of searing heat and a lack of rainwater would render crops unusable, making them a very risky investment.
The fact that poor old traders won’t be able to wash their horses in Dom Perignon is wretched.
But hey ho, on the flip side it looks like we’re in for a bobby-dazzler.
Great news for us – bright, sunny, glorious days on the beach, sparking up the BBQ in the evening and taking a dip in the sea as the sun starts to set.
So as you wade through the quagmire at the end of your garden, wondering whether you should try growing gills, don’t fret.
In five months’ time there’ll be a hose-pipe ban in place and you’ll be crying out for a downpour.
Don’t forget that you read it here first...