It’s been another bloody scorcher here in Melbourne with the temperature hitting a bee’s dick under 40 degrees for the third or fourth day in a row. But as much as it’s been uncomfortable for average Melburnians, spare a thought for those people amongst us who sport a full coat of fur and for whom it’s been so very difficult to cool off. Normally when I get home from work Napoleon comes running down the hallway to greet me but this afternoon he didn’t move from his spot between the couches where he lay panting and lifeless.

So I threw a glass of water over him.

“I have filed this away in my memory and will exact revenge when you least expect it.”

It’s been bloody hot in Melbourne ever since I got back into town on Boxing Day. Yesterday hit 41 degrees at about 5pm, dropped to about 30 degrees at midnight for the New Year’s celebrations, and didn’t go below 28 degrees all night. With the house already super-heated from the past couple of days there was absolutely no chance of getting any sleep. McBec and I moved to the spare room which has a better breeze from the window but neither of us managed more than an hour or two of proper sleep. It’s the only time I’ve ever wished for an air conditioner in my house. I normally cope with the heat quite well but this was ridiculous.

But spare a thought for poor Napoleon. He’s been walking around the house for the past two days looking like he wants to die. He spent last night at the foot of our bed making pathetic meow noises. I’m sure the RSPCA would’ve had no objection if I shaved his fur right off.

Last night was nice, though. Shunning boozy New Year’s party plans McBec and I went to a posh Italian restaurant, ate awesome food, drank awesome wine, and then went to see a movie. We were home by 11:30pm and read books in our underpants as the clocked ticked over to 2008. How romantic.

What did you peeps get up to?