Regular readers, and those who have recently switched from the Daily Express, may notice we don't talk about the weather much. That's because most of us here at i have typical urban workers' attitudes on the subject: you can't fix it; it doesn't usually have too much impact on our working day; and it's a safe bet in the UK that we will experience most seasons' weather within any given month, sometimes any given day.

Obviously, this year has been different. And I think we (the collective "we" of our greater society) are a bit different as a result. I can't speak for those poor people who have been flooded out, the farmers fretting over their crops, worried retailers, or disappointed organisers of countless events that have been washed out, it's the rest of us, I'm referring to - the majority of us for whom bad weather is not do or die, but mostly just an inconvenience and a bore.

I detect a collective sagginess brought on by sogginess. The 50 shades of grey skies, the frizz-inducing damp, the mud, the trips to shops that never happened and fun summer clothes, furniture, food and drink that simply never got bought, have dragged us down. We wait, that's what we do - not for the foam to form atop our Guinness, but for that damned Jet Stream to move a little north.

Well, good news, after a bit more rain this weekend, it will. Next week there is even a day in the forecast with a whole smiley sun to itself. Imagine. And then, perhaps the sun will come out for the Olympics, and we will all bask in a warm glow of national pride as we watch our brilliant athletes excel in our safe and fantastic Olympic stadium. We can dream.