Tonight I came out of the super up the street to an apocalyptic whorled and mud-coloured sky suddenly blown in from the west: gusty, threatening, far too close to a tornado skyscape for comfort. (We do get tornadoes here, though not often downtown.) The expected cloudburst didn't happen-- clouds moving too fast, in the event-- but it's been an uneasy wet evening, lightning flashing even in a half-clear sky, and pressure adding to the misery of flowering-time allergies. (Truly, I can never again think of 'phlegmatic' as a good thing to be.)
Hot bath, I think, even in the smelly mug, and hot beanbags in bed.