I am talking the weather condition here, before you stop reading with a grimace.

Today I officially announce wind as the most annoying form of weather. According to Wikipedia, wind has inspired mythology, influenced the events of history, expanded the range of transport and warfare, and provided a power source for mechanical work, electricity and recreation.

I am all up for that, really I am. But today, it irritated the hell out of me.

Today's wind caused mayhem in minutes; it lifted up my skirt resulting in an unhelpful bum-flash near Warren Street station. It blew my hair around in all sorts of crazy directions, before finally sticking it in my newly applied lip-gloss. It rendered my umbrella completely useless and blew a wet plastic bag in my face along the busiest part of Tottenham Court Road. Nice.

It distorted important phone calls and made everyone grouchy and touchy and generally a bit fed up of the bracing, gusty swirling of it all. It created a bit of a to-do on New Oxford Street too, all because of a wild and unruly backwards umbrella-in-face-incident.

Other weather phenomena are nowhere near as offensive. Sun is all-round-sensational. Rain can be quite romantic as long as you're adequately covered. Snow, a former enemy of mine, is admittedly pretty.

But wind; blustery, breezy, howling wind is something I’ve got absolutely no time for whatsoever.